Shadow of the Flame
by F12Scuderia
Summary: "The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow." A king and queen in the making, starting out as rivals. Loneliness sets in, and all they have is each other. Come fear, it takes a hold on both of them—spiralling them into a throne won with lies, deaths, and more painfully, love. (Maven/OC, Cal/Mare)
1. Dancing

**Chapter 01**

 _ **Dancing**_

* * *

Another ball, but this time, it was a masquerade—as if people wouldn't be able to recognize each other behind colorful and elaborate masks. The Queen of Norta herself prepared the event, commissioned for the silks and carpets and whatnot to be boasted for tonight. Even the chandelier was replaced, from the dusty one to the crystallized chandelier that illuminated the ballroom in a soft golden glow. A long table was meant for the food and drinks, the balcony wide open for couples to enjoy the night and to enter the back gardens.

More dancing, more songs, more chattering.

Usually, Alix enjoyed these kinds of events. In Piedmont, her father threw parties and feasts almost every night, much to the chagrin of her grandparents and mother. Every night meant a new feast, a new gown made of finest silk, and perhaps even new shoes if she behaved well. Her father's court was much livelier than here in Norta, where the king seemed too engrossed in drinking his wine while the queen was almost always off entertaining guests, her Sentinels in tow.

She shifted uncomfortably on the cushioned chair she was given, careful not to crease her gown of gold silk and cream laces. She tried not to frown, though her eyes showed disinterest behind her black feathery mask. One wrong move might embarrass her in front of all these Nortan people. Moreover, Queen Elara wouldn't like that.

 _I wish I were home._

Her train of thoughts about sneaking in the gardens to return to Piedmont was shattered when Elara's son approached her. He wore a black mask with silver filigrees dancing around the curve. He forced an awkward smile, though it was evident that he was loath to approach the Piedmont princess from her high seat on the platform.

Before Prince Maven could say something, she immediately cut him off.

"Don't."

He frowned, but tried to keep his composure. "Good evening, Princess Alistrine," he countered, smirking, aware that she hated her full name. "It is quite a lovely evening, yet you sit here surrounded by your guards. Why are you not dancing? I thought the King of Piedmont loves his balls and feasts. He truly is a generous man."

 _Generous_ was a polite way of calling her father an extravagant man.

She huffed. "I harm no one from where I am. Now, if you would please, leave me alone."

"I am afraid it would not please me." He smirked, offering a gloved hand. "As Prince of Norta, I am required to ask the Princess of Piedmont to dance."

Her golden eyes narrowed at him. "You really like to pour oil into the fire, don't you?"

"Not at all. I can make the fire stronger by myself."

"Then you can go ahead and make it stronger by _yourself_." With a hand, she casually waved him off, as if she would a Red servant. She loved dancing as much as the next person did; moreover, she _liked_ that her family sent her all the way to Norta—alone. Her father had explained that he and her brothers were busy for the trade and business with other countries; her mother had claimed she was sick, but everyone knew she was only trying to avoid Queen Elara. In conclusion, no one from House Caralis of Piedmont wanted to be in the arena of House Calore of Norta.

Yet here was the prince, asking for a mandatory dance.

"Can you already imagine what others are whispering?" Maven spared a sideways glance to his right shoulder, where a group of Iral girls were whispering to themselves. "Apparently, it is improper for someone of your standing to refuse someone of _my_ standing."

Begrudgingly, Alix sighed and got up from her seat, accepting the offered hand.

A sudden hush fell upon the crowd as the prince led his partner to the middle of the room. Couples stopped at the sight of them, the whispering Iral girls also fell silent. King Tiberias and Queen Elara stood together, proudly watching their son. Though only the queen knew that this would be a very long dance.

"It should be Prince Tiberias here with me, not you," Alix hissed in Maven's ear, as her feet began to move in time with the dance.

"Unfortunately, your Prince Charming is occupied with Colonel Macanthos and General Osanos," Maven growled. Not only did his mother force him to dance with the most insufferable girl in the world, but also that girl had to mention his oh-so-perfect brother. He guessed that even if Cal was miles and miles away, people could still find ways to mention him, and to put Maven where he belonged—always second, always behind Cal. _The shadow of the flame._

She squeezed his hand, making him grit his teeth at the pain, but she smiled cheerfully. "Is that jealousy I hear from your voice?"

He twirled her around, putting one foot on her skirt. She lost her balance and almost fell to the floor, but he snatched her back up and caught her waist. He smirked. "Me, jealous of you and Cal? You are too modest, my lady."

"Why else would you ask me before him?" She rammed her heel against his foot, watching in pleasure as the prince sucked in a breath to hold his wince.

"Simply because I was asked to." The silver bracelet around his wrist clinked, producing small sparks. A warning of his losing patience. Up in the gallery, the musicians seemed enthralled in their own song.

"A pity that you have to do everything you're told." She tried to disentangle herself from him, but his grasp on her hand and around her waist was strong. She could feel the unnatural heat produced by his palm, slowly burning her through her gown. As counteract, a tendril of the prince's shadow curled around his leg and pulled, throwing him off balance.

Maven stumbled, but Alix yanked him back to her. He pulled her closer and growled in her ear, "I am a prince, and a prince knows his duties. Do you know where your duties lie, my lady?"

"But of course," she answered sweetly, her voice dripping with honeyed poison. "Stand here and there, look pretty and behaved, smile for the cameras, not speaking unless spoken to. A princess is an asset to her country through marriage."

"I hope it doesn't end with marriage." He twirled her again, this time in a dizzying speed that had her head swimming nauseously. Then, he dipped her, catching her back with his hand. For a moment there, he had the heart to smash her headfirst onto the floor. But the whole court was watching. He could do the smashing—later. Instead, he pulled her up again and grinned at her flushed expression.

Finally, the music ended. The crowd burst into loud cheering and clapping, even King Tiberias. Only Queen Elara had the grace to smirk to herself, knowing what _actually_ transpired between the two.

Alix curtsied to the prince as was expected of her. She leaned close, pretending to thank him in front of all these fools. "I hate you."

Maven laughed and kissed her gloved hand. "I know."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hello, hello! This would be my very first Red Queen story, so I hope everyone could bear with me. I finished reading the books in less than three days, and I have fallen completely in love with Maven (who doesn't?). He's a complex character, and I wish we saw more of him in Glass Sword. Until the third book, I'll be focusing with writing stories about our favourite prince!

Reviews are always treasured, which would help me develop this story. If you have comments, suggestions, or simply want to fangirl about Maven with me, then come join me in the dark side! *insert evil laughter* But please, do review. ( ˘ ³˘)

Hope you guys enjoyed this little prologue. See you on the next chapter!

Cover image not mine. Credits all go to the wonderful artist.


	2. Deadly Luncheon

**Chapter 02**

 _ **Deadly Luncheon**_

* * *

Warm shafts of sunlight spilled through the thin white curtains in her room. It was such a spacious room, able to house perhaps a dozen Red families; but today, it was only meant for one. A large four-posted bed sat in the middle, a cold and untouched hearth on the other side, along with the bookshelves, wardrobe, and vanity. Tapestries dominated the two walls, depicting sceneries of pastures and oceans.

"It is time to wake, Princess."

Alix stirred from underneath the piles of pillows and blanket. She wiped the sticky substance from the corner of her mouth and sat up, yawning. For a moment there, the light in her room blinded her, prompting her to cover her eyes and shake her head.

"The light," she murmured.

"Oh, of course." Her lady-in-waiting hurried towards the window and pulled a heavy drapery, shutting off the sunlight in an instant. "I have forgotten we're not in Piedmont anymore." She had curly brown hair and warm green eyes that were always drawn to the ground to avoid disrespect to her superiors.

"What do we have for today?" Alix walked off, scratching the back of her head, her white nightgown flapping against her bare thighs. In the confinements of her room, she didn't need to be prim and proper. There were no cameras to watch over her, and she had made sure Queen Elara removed the cameras before settling here.

Fiore fetched a paper from the desk and presented it to her. "You would spend the whole afternoon with the queen and the ladies from the High Houses. There might be an evening feast afterwards, but not as grandiose as last night."

"Just lunch, hm? Good, good." Alix bit her bottom lip. "Would the princes be there?"

"I am not quite sure, Your Ladyship. I heard Prince Tiberias has a meeting with the colonels and generals who have recently returned from the war front. I heard nothing of Prince Maven's activities today."

"Well, let's hope he's not around."

"Why not?" Fiore giggled. She helped the princess to comb her disheveled silver hair, smoothing it down her back and waist. "Everyone watched you dance with him last night. He is such a graceful dancer. Moreover, he's quite tall and handsome, but not as much as Prince Tiberias."

 _Do not let him hear you_ , Alix thought. Despite her rivalry with the younger prince, she knew Maven disliked being compared to his brother. She only mentioned Cal once last night, to set Maven's temper, but that was it. She meant to tease him. She would never deliberately compare him, to hurt his feelings. It was simply not a good thing to do. Still, she could not understand how it felt like. Among five siblings, she was the only girl, and there was no one to compare with her.

"If this is any respite, House Samos has finally arrived," Fiore said teasingly.

Her voice was sarcastic. "Oh, most wondrous. Here cometh the magnetron vipers of Norta."

"It is not so surprising, considering how close the Queenstrial approaches."

Alix grumbled under her breath. Queenstrial was the reason she was here in the first place. Due to the close alliance between Norta and Piedmont, her father decided that it would be a courtesy to King Tiberias if the Princess of Piedmont were present. She didn't even know if she had to compete to become Cal's bride. To her, it was the most undignified method to get married—beautiful, talented girls all over the country battling it out to be queen. Did they not have prides? Were girls in Norta this desperate to marry the prince? There was also such a thing back home, in Piedmont. Eventually, her eldest brother would have to watch his own Queenstrial from a balcony.

"So, Samos will compete?"

"Yes, my lady, so are Houses Rhambos, Lerolan, and Welle."

"I suppose I have to endure the afternoon speaking with the girls and their mothers."

"Oh, it's nothing compared to what you have at home," Fiore said, trying to cheer her up. "Shall I call the other maids to help you prepare?"

"That would be nice."

In the next hour, Alix had to sit up straight whilst five ladies-in-waiting, Fiore included, worked to fetch her gown for today, to brush her hair, to wipe her shoes until they shone. She languidly ate from her platter of chocolate and strawberries as they scurried around the room, looking for her jewels and tiara. Against the morning light, she gleamed like a stupid trophy—all dressed in a golden gown with white ribbons, her silver hair left unbound, and a small golden tiara on her head. When she looked at the mirror, her very image blinded her. She flicked her hand, a shadow moving towards the window to block out the remaining light until the room was engulfed in darkness. She smiled at her reflection then; nothing else glowed except for her own golden eyes.

A knock on the door caught them unawares.

Fiore opened it and it took all her willpower not to gasp. "Your Highness…"

Prince Tiberias himself stepped into the room, hands behind his back, his black hair swept neatly to the side. He wore a military uniform of red-and-black, with a slash of silver across his torso. His smile was bright and earnest.

Even Alix was surprised to see him. She curtsied and said, "Good morning, Prince Tiberias."

Cal chuckled and offered an arm. "Good morning, Princess Alix, though it is quite _late_ in the morning."

She sighed in relief that he did not use her full name. It was long, and too stupid-sounding. "You're not busy? I thought you would be in the war council right now."

"I won't be there until lunch time," he answered, leading her out of the room and into the corridor. The Sentinels formed a long line behind him, their expressions grim and cold.

"Then you have enough time to escort ladies around the palace until lunch time," she noted, her voice playful. Unlike Maven, whom she found eager to tease and annoy, she found out that she couldn't do that to Cal, who was always serious, like a young general and soldier.

"I wanted to make up for the lack of attention I paid you last night. Everyone knew it should be me dancing with you, yet Mavey was already there. Whispers already began to roam around the court."

"Oh, so you're doing this to make show for them, that the crown prince finally decides to escort a visiting princess."

"I meant no offense," he murmured, lowering his red-gold eyes to look at her. "Truth be told, I was occupied with stories from the front. To my relief, my brother already ensnared you for a dance. At least you didn't spend the whole night glowering from your chair."

They shared a wide grin, and Alix said, "I was not glowering, Prince Tiberias. I was merely observing."

Again, Cal chuckled. "Do me a favor, would you? You will stop calling me _Tiberias_ , and I will not call you _Alistrine_."

Had he been Maven, she would have made him trip, but this was Cal and she smiled at him. "It's a deal, Prince Cal."

Luncheon was at Glass Terrace, a monstrosity of glass canopy, columns, and walls, reflecting the afternoon light in thousands of colors that could be the cause of blindness to everyone. Especially Alix. She flinched as they entered, tightening her grip against Cal's arm, and dug her heels onto the ground. Her eyes hurt, her head beginning to thump. She felt the urge to darken everything around her, or at least adjust the light where she could not be blinded while eating at the table. Someone's hand was on the small of her back, and when she cracked her eyes open, Cal was giving her a worried look.

"Are you all right? Maybe we should cancel today's lunch."

"Does it have to be in a place like _this_?"

"Ladies for the Queenstrial gather here. There's not much of a choice."

"It's nice to have an option of a choice, no?"

Cal smiled. "You sound just like Maven."

She frowned. "Let's not go there. Instead, let's proceed to the table so I could endure pointless babbles _and_ the blinding sunlight."

Grinning, the crown prince led her towards the table. Like last night with Maven, the women hushed and clamped their mouths shut. Their hungry and jealous eyes tried to bore into the girl who was very much away from home, trapped in a court where no one was her friend, except for her own ladies-in-waiting. Everyone was tensed, somehow fearful that there might not be a Queenstrial when the Piedmont princess was here, to take Cal away from the talented daughters.

As if on cue, a Sentinel announced their arrival.

"Prince Tiberias of House Calore and Princess Alistrine of House Caralis."

If they had been married, both of them had to spend the rest of their lives being referred as such. _Good thing I am not here to marry Cal._

Like before, she frowned at her name, though none of them seemed to notice her chagrin except for one particular youth standing beside the queen. His stupid blue eyes were easy to place.

 _Maven._

"You are such a dear," Queen Elara purred, flashing a sweet smile to the crown prince. She wore white-and-blue, the colors of House Merandus, with her long ash-blond hair fiercely straight.

"I'll take my leave now," Cal said, then turned to Alix with a smile. "Excuse me, Your Ladyship."

"You don't have to leave," she whispered, almost desperate not to be left alone in the mercy of the queen.

"Trouble, Princess Alistrine?" the queen asked, tilting her head to the side, looking like a curious cat. _A pale blonde cat._

"Nothing at all, Your Highness." Alix turned to Elara with a polite nod.

"Prince Cal has duties to attend to," Maven interjected. He stepped forward, standing close to his brother. _Now there's a black cat._ "We cannot delay him."

She sighed in defeat and released Cal's arm. "Thank you escorting me, Prince Cal."

Maven's brow rose. She had never called his brother by his nickname before. It had always been Tiberias. Just how close did they become during the five-minute walk from her rooms to the terrace? Then again, he remembered that Cal was closer to her than Maven himself.

"My honor, Princess Alix." Cal dipped his head into a bow, clapped Maven on the shoulder, and walked off.

Alix watched the prince's retreating form with sadness. She was more comfortable with Cal than any other in this palace was, simply because he had been in Piedmont more than both of them could count. Cal often travelled with his father, brother, and the ambassadors, thus Alix saw more of him than Queen Elara. She pushed the thoughts aside and faced the queen, inwardly hissing at the blinding light again.

Maven offered an arm to her and whispered, "Take it."

She scoffed, but held on to him nonetheless. They approached the long table as the ladies and their daughters took their respective seats. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be trailing big brother's shadow?"

He knew it was a tease, but he still pinched her arm, strong enough to leave a bruise for a few days. "According to the queen, I have to escort the Princess of Piedmont while the crown prince prepares for the Queenstrial."

"So, it's you and I for the rest of the day?" She dug her nails onto the skin of his forearm, making him hiss.

"You and I, indeed." He guided her to sit on a chair, on the right-hand side of the queen. When Alix was already seated, Maven gave a savage push, smashing her chest against the edge of the table. Luckily, none of the women saw.

"This would be a long day." She caressed the pain out of her chest as the prince took the seat in front of her.

Queen Elara sat herself at the head of the table, addressing all the matriarchs of the High Houses with flawless grace and sweet voice. Each woman nodded their heads in response, starting from House Greco to Marinos to Haven, and so forth. Beside the women were their daughters, all bright-eyed, keen, and undeniably talented. Tension hung heavily in the air, the rivals for Cal's crown glaring at each other. Only the queen had no one to glare. Beside her, even her son and the Piedmont girl were having a silent fight.

 _Oh, this would be a very long day, indeed._

As the main course was laid out on the table, Alix's index finger flicked upwards. A tendril of shadow followed it, upturning the plate of mushroom soup. Its contents stained Maven's uniform in a mess of white substance. He jerked up, glowering, until the Osanos nymph saved him by manipulating the soup out of his clothes. Once the soup was gone, a windweaver sent a small gust of wind to dry it off. Then Maven returned to his seat with a haughty smirk.

But of course, the prince would not let this go without a fight.

Maven's flame-maker bracelet clinked under the tablecloth, producing small sparks. Instead of a fire, he manipulated the heat under the table, precisely where Alix's bowl of soup was. He placed his hand on the wood, palm up, boiling the soup. When Alix tried to take a sip, she let out a sharp yelp.

"What's the matter, dear?" Queen Elara batted her long lashes at her.

She fought the urge not to growl. "Nothing at all, except that the soup is too hot, Your Highness."

"Take special care next time. I would not want you with a burned tongue until the big event. There are much and more small meetings that you have to attend."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Alix was not surprised when none of the Queenstrial girls moved to help her, unlike what they did to Maven. Not even the Gliacon girl beside her, a shiver who could at least cool down the soup with her ice manipulation ability, spared her so much of a glance. She noticed the prince's hidden smile and turned away from him, her eyes falling to the girl seated to his left.

The Samos girl was glaring daggers at her, and Alix felt the urge to flip the bowl to her lap.

 _Keep your naughty thoughts to yourself, dear._ Queen Elara's voice was suddenly in her head, echoing and bouncing, making her head swirl. _You've misbehaved long enough since last night. Though I usually find it amusing, messing with House Samos is a no-no._

She gulped. Having the queen whisper her way into your mind was _not_ a good thing. _She's glaring at me,_ she replied _. And I am thinking of simply embarrassing her in front of all the others._

At the head of the table, Elara showed no signs that she was distracted. She kept smiling and laughing along with the other women. _Evangeline thinks you're a threat to her chance in the Queenstrial. In fact, all these girls do, so best behave yourself._

Suddenly, Alix felt the heat rising in her chair, burning her through her gown. She narrowed her eyes at the prince in front of her. _With all due respect, your son is very much annoying me._

Elara laughed aloud, but no one seemed to notice her mental conversation with her. _I think the two of you are simply fond of each other. Fond of annoying each other, at least._

A woman from the other end of the table spoke up. She was robed in green-and-gold, the colors of House Welle, the greenwardens. "It has been a while since Princess Alistrine returned to Norta. We hope that the change of weather suits Her Ladyship well. I heard Piedmont has mild winters and swampy summers." She shook her head, as if it was a shame. "In Norta, the weather is adequate."

"Not too adequate I hope, Lady Welle," Alix answered, smiling.

"That's a lovely gown," a Haven from across the table added. "Though I imagine you might be rather cold."

"I feel perfectly fine," Alix told her, the corner of her mouth twitching. "The climate back in Piedmont is more forgiving though."

In just a short while, the other women joined in the conversation. Everyone made more comments about her gown, then about her hair and tiara, the paleness of her skin that was the significant trait of House Caralis. Then, the talk returned to matters of the state between Norta and Piedmont, with the queen supplying enough details, but not too much. Others asked Prince Maven and his on-going Training with his brother and Lord Arven. The mothers were glad to tell the prince that their daughters would soon join Training to better prepare for the Queenstrial.

"Would the princess also join Training?" Evangeline finally spoke, smiling a feral smile.

"Do you want me to be, Lady Samos?" Alix challenged, having enough of the magnetron's constant glares.

"I believe all of us here want to."

She lifted her chin proudly. "Then I'll see you at the field, in three days."

Maven stopped eating and turned beside him, deciding whether to make Evangeline stop or goad her on. When he flinched, it was obvious that his mother's voice was in his head, perhaps warning him from interrupting.

"Sounds like a good training for the Queenstrial," Queen Elara chimed in. "I shall discuss this with my husband to prepare for the equipment and instructors needed. Lord Arven would be present of course. Lady Provos—"

A woman in black-and-gold looked up from her plate.

"Could you lend someone from your house to help?"

"I have a brother," Lady Provos said. "I shall inform him as soon as possible."

"Good."

 _Brilliant, just brilliant_ , Alix berated herself. _Not only meetings and evening feasts, but also Training! I shouldn't have come here in the first place!_

She expected Elara's voice in her head. Instead, the growing heat on her chair reminded her of the prince seated in front of her. All her thoughts about training were now gone, replaced by her hatred for this smirking Prince of Norta.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I'm back with a new chapter, folks! Since, it received positive reviews, I decided to update. I sincerely thank everyone who has favorited and followed this story, and more thanks to those who left such positive, encouraging reviews: Booknerd726 and two guests. I hope everyone's enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it. Still, I would also ask for reviews if this story seems to be going well or not. Suggestions and opinions are always appreciated.

Until we meet again on the next chapter!


	3. A Trip to the Garden

**Chapter 03**

 _ **A Trip to the Garden**_

* * *

True to his word, Maven was to escort Alix for the remainder of the day.

They walked arm-in-arm, constantly followed by a long line of Sentinels behind them. Alix brought her own Sentinels. In Piedmont, they called them the Royal Guard, sworn to serve and protect the members of House Caralis. Often they dressed in golden plated armor and white capes. Unlike the Nortan Sentinels, they wore no black masks, but rather helmets that only revealed their eyes.

"Do we have to do this?" she asked him, itching to snatch her arm from his.

"Apparently." His eyes were focused on the road, and his grip on her arm was not too tight. _Odd_.

"What are we supposed to do? Do we spend the rest of the afternoon making small talk, trying not to rip each other?"

Maven stopped and looked down to her. Even in her heels, Alix was still a good few inches shorter than he was. Ice-colored eyes were on hers, staring down quite intently. "Well, what do you suggest we do?"

She was surprised that he asked for her opinion. Since when did her opinion matter to the prince anyway? "We could wander around… Anything to pass the time."

He thought for a while, as if contemplating his choices. In the Hall of the Sun, there was nothing in particular that was pleasant. Gardens were all around the place, though he knew his mother and the other ladies for the Queenstrial would be there, chittering and chattering until the end of the day. After what happened in luncheon, he didn't want to spend his day crowded with so many women who talked about nothing but stupid clothes, and weather, and whatnot. It was exhausting.

"We could go to the Grand Garden," he murmured.

"The marketplace?" she asked, the excitement unmasked in her voice.

"Yes." He raked his fingers through his black hair. "Somewhere away from all these distractions."

"So be it." She welcomed the idea of leaving the palace for a while. Of all the times she had been in both Archeon and Summerton, she never had the chance to leave the palaces. She could almost bounce with excitement, until she remembered her Guards behind her. "Do they have to come?"

He gave her a bewildered look. "They're called _Sentinels_ for a reason, and that reason is to guard us."

"Wouldn't be nice if they are not around for a change?" She gave him no time to reply. She faced her Guards, who were all silent and composed. "Prince Maven and I would be heading to the Grand Garden. All of you are allowed to return to our apartments."

Her Guards saluted to her and marched away, moving in perfect rhythm. She turned back to the prince with a smug look. _Your turn._

"Sentinels." He cleared his throat. "I'll take it from here. You're free to go."

"But Your Highness," one of the guards begged to differ. "It is strictly forbidden for a prince and princess to be left without the supervision of the Sentinels."

Beside him, Alix chortled.

He tried to keep his composure. "This is an order, Sentinel Marinos. Or do I have to take this to the queen?"

The guard's dark blue eyes were hard and cold. "My orders come from the King of Norta himself. Once the king has issued his orders, only then would I follow."

"You forget, Sentinel," Maven interjected, his voice calculated, "that I am the son of your king. My orders are _his_ orders. Once you refuse me, it means you refuse the king. You would not want that. None of you would want that. Do you?"

Finally, Marinos relented. "No, Your Highness."

"The princess and I will not be long," he said, once again taking Alix's arm in his. "We will return before dusk, if that's any respite for any of you."

With that, the prince whisked his companion away from the corridor, as the Sentinels reluctantly left to the other side.

"Is it always so hard to ask for permission here?" Alix asked.

"I was not asking for permission," he retorted. "It was an order."

"If it had been an order, they would have agreed at once. No questions asked."

He huffed. "I suppose you were ordering your Sentinels, Guards, or whatever you call them in Piedmont. They follow whatever you tell them to, despite knowing that there could be danger in the Grand Garden?"

"It's not like that." She laughed softly at his ignorance. "In Piedmont, once the prince decides on something, it usually gets done the same afternoon. If the king so wishes to have a masquerade, then by evening we are all dancing. It is not a matter of danger. It is simply trust that we exercise back home. If I wanted to elevate all my ladies-in-waiting to become duchesses in their own right, then everyone would trust my decision, for decisions are deemed worthy of trust."

"Unfortunately, trust doesn't work that way here." He led her down the staircase as two Sentinels opened the double doors for them. Outside, the world was bright, the fresh air seizing their lungs. "My brother and I have to work tenfold to earn even our parents' trust."

"Shame." She clicked her tongue. Her golden eyes drank in the sight of the looming marketplace to their right. "You and Cal seem to have great potentials."

The Grand Garden was a bustling marketplace arrayed with potted plants, glass sculptures, and polished fountains. Shops stretched as far as the eyes could see, and ranged from cafes, bakeries, bars to jewelry stores. The Silver elites were craning their necks at each store, hoping to find something to purchase. Children from the High Houses played here as well, running around and pulling each other's hair. Once upon a time, Alix and Maven had done those, too—albeit to greater extent. Across the field, other elite children gathered around a small menagerie, with caged rare white lion with blue eyes.

Maven chuckled at her expression. "Quite dumbfounded, aren't you?"

She stopped gaping and nudged him with her elbow. "Try amazed instead."

"Well, the Grand Garden is the center of trade and business; not only in Summerton, but also in the nearby cities." He guided her through the thick crowd, the Silvers not giving them attention. No one cared about a dark-haired boy and a girl in a golden gown. "It is the one of the few places where Reds are allowed to have this much business of their own, allowed to keep their shops and take apprentices as long as they have the means."

"I suppose not all Reds have to steal to live," she murmured.

"Some of them are lucky. I know a few Reds who have better lives than the others."

"Where do we go first?" Again, she gave him no time to answer. She yanked his hand and dashed off, dragging him with her. "Let's see the lion!"

A white lion paced back and forth in its small arena, eyeing the humans with fierce blue eyes. Creatures such as this one were considered rare, a story for children to hear at night, for hunters to pursue in the wilds. Recently, a hunter from House Viper returned from his five-year trip and secured _one_ lion, which could die in a few months time.

"I've never seen one up-close," Alix said, stretching a finger towards the beast. It meandered towards her, its great paws making no sound.

"There's a reason they're called _rare_." Maven grabbed her hand before the lion could sniff at it. "Be careful. I cannot afford you to get ripped by an animal in front of all these people."

She sighed exasperatedly. "Does the word _fun_ ever exist in your vocabulary?"

"No." He growled. "I don't speak Stupid like you."

"Sarcasm is a foreign language to you, isn't it?"

"Is Stupid the only language spoken in Piedmont?"

Alix crossed her arms over her chest. "Is this the part when we take each other's arms and walk again? Because people are starting to watch, and I have no intention on returning to Piedmont with a bad image here."

"In that case, we should go." Instead of intertwining their arms, he placed his hand on the small of her back and gave a gentle push, prompting her to walk away from the menagerie and away from the curious eyes.

As she walked with even steps, she could not help but be impressed of the life here. Everything was filled with so much… vibrancy. Reds scurried around, following orders, pushing carts, wiping the products they were trying to sell. Even Red children did some work, while the Silver elite did not have the luxury to smile at them, craning their necks, lifting their chin, ignoring each other. It was the same life in Piedmont: Red servants for one Silver, High Houses had dozens of Reds under their roofs. In her sixteen years, the Red world never ceased to amaze her.

"If I had known, I would have worn a more casual dress."

He blinked and assessed her appearance, from the tiara to her golden skirts. "Why? You're perfect the way you are."

Suddenly, they stopped walking, letting the words sink in to both of them. Maven immediately flushed white, embarrassed of his words.

"Did you just compliment me?" she teased.

"No," he grumbled under his breath.

She laughed. "Lighten up, Maven. You can compliment me whenever you want."

"Yeah?" He smirked. "I'd rather spin you around until you're dizzy."

"Sure you do." Her heels clicked as she dragged him towards a bakery she noticed. Pastries of different colors lined inside a glass container, while the scent of egg and batter hung heavily in the air. She inhaled and exhaled, her stomach growling at the sight of so many treats.

A baker's apprentice, perhaps around her age, approached with a grin. "See something you like, little lady?"

Alix nodded and pointed. "What is that?"

"A tart, filled with strawberry. I have more in other flavors—raspberry, blueberry, lemon, coconuts. You name it." He gave her a handsome smile, as he leaned on the counter and brought his face closer to hers.

She paid him no mind, her eyes switching from one tart to another. "How much is one tart?"

"It depends on how much you want it to be, my rose."

"Then I'll take two out of everything," she decided, beaming at the thought of eating twelve kinds of tarts.

"Of course. Wait here." The apprentice winked at her and returned to his workstation, preparing for the order.

Maven had watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. Without Sentinels in tow, no one recognized the Prince of Norta. People were free to bump into him, to touch his shoulder as if he was a mere commoner. He allowed those things to happen, which he deemed inevitable. But a baker's apprentice _flirting_ with the Princess of Piedmont? It was unthinkable, blasphemous, and worthy of a punishment! He had seen enough when the apprentice winked at Alix, treating her like a common Red.

When the apprentice returned a few minutes later, and before he could spout some cheesy one-liner, Maven fished a few silver coins from his pocket.

"Bless my soul," the Red mused, his eyes glinting in mischief. "Who would've thought your friend is such a lordy?"

A princely eyebrow twitched. _Lordy, he called me a lordy._

"Five tetrarchs," Alix remarked in surprise. "Would this be enough?"

"More than enough," the baker agreed.

"In that case," Maven growled, taking his companion by the elbow, "it's time for us to leave." He took the box of freshly baked tarts and stalked off.

Clutching her skirts, Alix ran after him. "Cheer up, Maven."

His brow rose. "That's gold coming from you."

"I mean it. Come on, let's eat all these." She approached a fountain, this one hidden behind columns of trees. It was quiet here, the sunlight barely poking through the green leaves. She was relieved that she needed not to be blinded while eating, as opposed to the luncheon at Glass Terrace before. Shadows of the leaves swayed and danced against the white marble floor.

Maven helped her set up the tarts, as one would during a picnic. His mouth watered, and Alix laughed in front of him, all the while urging him to take a bite. It was his money after all, thus he was free to take whatever he want. So, the prince took up a lemon tart and ate.

"How come you're here in Norta alone?" he asked, making small talk. "Your brothers are with you for every hour in a day." He had met them countless times before, the renowned princes of Piedmont—all tall, good-looking, and sharp. Maven almost saw them as reflections of his own brother. _The perfect princes._

"Oh, they're all too engaged in diplomatic matters."

"All four of them?"

"Quite so." She nodded, munching on her strawberry tart. "Father wants them all prepared for court life if something ever happens to him. War is never an option, you know."

"Yes, you're right." He sighed. A gnawing envious feeling crept up inside him. Four sons yet their father found a way to treat them as equals, to make one feel as important and as good as the other. It never happened to Maven—not while Cal was around. Hell, even if Cal was gone, people still worshipped him. Everyone in the palace, except Queen Elara. _My supportive mother._

"Had I been born male, I would be counted among them."

"Luckily, you're not." Despite himself, he chuckled. "I heard Queen Margaux had prayed many nights for a daughter. I am surprised she's not here. Does she have diplomatic reasons, too?"

"Hardly." She wrinkled her nose. "It just so happens that my mother is wary of your mother. Yours is not very known for her kindness."

"My mother has her own fierceness in her." He sighed, letting the thought pass. "So, the royals of Piedmont are too engrossed in their businesses, that they send a lone princess off into a neighboring country, to attend my brother's Queenstrial?"

"Unfortunately."

"Truly a nightmare for you."

"Especially when I have to spend the rest of the day with you," she pointed out, grinning. "You know what?"

His voice was dull. "What?"

"This is perhaps the longest _normal_ conversation we have without wanting to kill each other."

He considered it for a while. "Who would have thought we'd get this far?"

"We should celebrate."

"How?"

In answer, a shadowy tentacle emerged from the trees, knocking the prince to his back. Then, it curled around his ankle and lifted him upside-down, dangling him above the fountain. Alix clutched her stomach to hold back her laughter, but soon ducked when a fireball was tossed her way, melting the stone floor. The shadow around Maven's ankle let loose, with him falling in such speed, yet another tentacle yanked him around the waist, saving him just in time before he could plunge into the cold waters.

Once he was back on his feet, he glared and his arms came alive with flames. "That's your idea of a celebration?"

"No, it is my idea of fun." She jumped up, hands on her hips. "Live a little, Maven. Nothing will happen if you keep on plotting and frowning, even following behind your brother's shadow."

Maven's shadow moved independently, separating itself from the prince and took a form familiar to both of them. _Cal_. The figure was all black, with smokes disintegrating into thin air; but it was solid and hard, like a mannequin. It took the likeness of the crown prince, molding its face into Cal's. For a moment there, Maven was horrified, and then he remembered what House Caralis was infamous for.

 _Wraiths, all of them, from grandfather to the only daughter. Wraiths, manipulators of shadow and darkness._

Alix placed a soft hand on his arm, calming him a little.

He brushed her off. How could she know what it felt like to be compared to the prince everyone so admired? She would never know how it felt. She had four brothers; all treated equally by their parents, and her, being the only daughter, was most likely the center of their large family. He was certain that Alix had everything she wanted in an instant; she would be the Cal in their family. What a laugh it would be if she claimed to know what he felt.

"Find a cause, Maven."

"I have nothing," he said, his voice low and almost apologetic. Compared to his brother's wisdom and expertise and to Alix's radiance in Silver courts, Maven was nothing.

Finally, Cal's shadow disappeared.

The prince straightened himself. "We should be heading back."

"Yes, we should. The Sentinels would be waiting for us." Alix put her hand on the prince's forearm and followed him in silence. In all their years of rivalry and petty arguments, she knew what never failed to set him off.

It had always been Cal.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hello, hello! Whew! It's been a while, hasn't it? I was away for a vacation so I had no time to update. I would like to sincerely thank everyone who was left encouraging reviews last chapter (Guest, Eli, GeeGee, ShinigamiReiko, Arielle, Missawesome03, Arabella, and Gabby0529). If it weren't' for your reviews, I wouldn't feel too motivated to update. Thanks a lot guys! And thank you to everyone reading this story. It means a lot to me.

If you have comments or suggestions that would spice up the story, let me know. Maven needs all the love from the fans!


	4. Training Session

**Chapter 04**

 _ **Training Session**_

* * *

Piedmont Guards marched in tune behind their princess. Theirs was a group who could attract attention anywhere—all golden and silver, leather boots tapping against the floor. Daggers and swords were the weapons of the Guards, and shadows were for the princess. Every movement, every corner produced a shadow that she could use, to fight, to defend herself, but so far, all she was good at using her ability was to cause mishap to others, for her own entertainment. No wonder Prince Maven hated her.

Today, none of Alix's usual gaming mood was present. Queen Elara had left her a note, telling her that today was the start of her joining the Training with the other Silver elite teens.

Her entourage entered through a door that led to the arena. One guard broke from the group to open the door, and Alix still had the grace to nod her thanks as she entered. The training hall was a vast, open court, with glass roofs above and metal contraptions all around. Trees served as shades for the trainees, fountains were present for the nymphs and shivers present. Black cameras jutted from all corners, keeping watch on every movement and miscalculation a fighter would do in a fight. The floor felt springy, like sand.

Once Alix stepped into full view, she winced at the blinding sunlight. _Why does everything in Norta have to be covered with so much light?_

"Good thing you can finally join us, Princess Alistrine." A girl with glossy auburn hair and sweet smile approached her, robed in her house's color. Black for House Haven. "My name is Elane."

"Should I be concerned on how much you people look forward on training with me?" Alix spat irritably, still concerned with the sunlight. She wondered how much shadows would take to blot all the light out.

Elane did not seem to get the implication. "It's not everyday someone from Piedmont gets to train with us."

"With a rare ability, too." Another girl sauntered towards them. She was dark-skinned, with ebony hair and fierce eyes. Her jumpsuit sleeves were striped with blue and red. House Iral. "I hope Instructor Arven tells us to fight today. I would really like to test your ability."

"She's Sonya Iral." Elane giggled, one hand demurely covering her mouth. "She meant no offense for speaking nonsense. She always does that."

Alix finally gave up the thought of the light and stared at the two girls. She flashed a mocking smile. "No offense taken, Lady Iral."

"Before and after the Queenstrial, you would be with us," Sonya said. Her eyes briefly glanced around the arena, searching for the other girls' faces. "Which one of us do you think would win?"

"Oh, yes." Elane nodded, beaming. "Do tell."

 _None of you_ , Alix wanted to say, _because Cal values morals rather than strength and power._ She could not say that aloud, not unless she wanted a legion of girls snapping at her heels, barking at her like feral bitches in heat. "I cannot say as of yet," she answered instead, her voice all sweet and innocent. It was easy to flatter these foolish girls with lies and half-meant truths. "Perhaps once we have made good progress in Training, I can decide."

"Then we wait your decision, Lady Caralis." Sonya nodded a little, then stalked off, followed by Elane.

 _Lady Caralis_. What an insult! Her eyebrow twitched. No one must call a princess as such. Who in the world would even refer to Cal and Maven as "Lord Calore" or to Queen Elara as "Lady Merandus"? Alix glared at Sonya's back, hoping her gaze would pierce her, but to no avail.

"I hope you're done glaring, Southern Softie."

Maven walked up to her with all the poise and grace that a prince could only possess. He wore a black leather uniform similar to the other teens, though his sleeves were slashed with the red-and-black colors of his house. He seemed to be in an uplifted mood, perhaps eager to let off some steam from their constant bickering through Training.

"Ah, behold. Here comes the Northern Bastard," Alix grumbled, letting her eyes leave Sonya to meet the prince's blue eyes. When he finally reached her, she stepped back. "Stop _smiling_ at me. It scares me bigtime."

His smile turned into a half-smirk. "Comfortable in your tights, Princess?"

"Not quite, but I suppose it would work." She winded her right arm, testing the sleeves. Her silver hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, her tiara and jewels all gone. "What do we get to do for today?"

"Why? Do you want to fight Sonya?" he asked, then glanced over her shoulder to find Sonya locked in a conversation with Elane Haven. His gaze drifted back to her. "I must warn you: she's not an easy target. She's just like her grandmother, the infamous Panther. Have you met her?"

"Once, and I have no intentions to cross her here."

"Unfortunately for you, Ara Iral is here to cheer for her granddaughter in the Queenstrial."

"Lovely."

"Irals are silks, with perfect agility and balance. Do you think you can handle Sonya the prodigy?"

"She's not the only prodigy around here." Alix cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders. Then, her voice dropped into a low whisper. "She called me Lady Caralis. Could you believe that? A princess called by her house as though she was naught but a peasant. Lady Caralis made me feel like a widow. I will show that Iral girl, oh yes. I'll give her a piece of my mind."

He chuckled at her flash of temper. It was unlike her to lose her composure, but when she did, it was for the most amusing of reasons. "You hate being called by your full name and then by your surname, yet you don't protest when I call you Southern Softie?"

Their use of _Southern Softie_ and _Northern Bastard_ started several months after their rivalry began. Piedmont was located in the south, while Norta was in the north—respectively. When Alix had done something that earned Maven's hatred for the next few years, the name-calling and insults were taken lightly. None of them used the term where others could hear them, especially their fathers who were as close as brothers were. Not even Cal knew or heard about the names.

"Since you're such a child, I'll let you call me that," she retorted.

"Okay, Alistrine."

She smacked his arm. "Quiet you!"

It would have been another banter between them, had not the pale and sickly-looking instructor entered the arena. Prince Cal was in stride with Lord Arven, his red-gold eyes assessing the Queenstrial girls. He showed no interest in any of them, especially those who took their time flipping their hair and shooting him seductive smiles. Behind the instructor and the prince was someone from House Provos, perhaps the brother Lady Provos referred to at luncheon the other day. The three of them stopped at the head of the arena, as the girls fell into lines. Evangeline was the head of one, with Sonya and Elane behind her, whilst Alix led the next one, her group consisted of reluctant Greco and Marinos girls.

Lord Arven's dark eyes fell to Alix, reflecting surprise. It seemed the queen did not inform him of a new charge today. "Princess Alistrine," he whispered, bowing respectfully. "I am glad to know that you're here."

"Thank you, Lord Arven," she answered, returning his bow with a curt nod.

"Everyone's here to train for the Queenstrial, yes?" He was quick to move to the main subject. Perhaps he deemed a little greeting to the new girl was enough. He watched as heads bobbed up and down in agreement. "In that case, we will focus on everyone's unique abilities; focus on your strong points, then the weak points. And after that—"

Sonya's hand was up in the air.

"Yes, Lady Iral?"

"Would there be a practice fight between us?"

"Would you prefer to have one?" he countered, and another series of nods answered him. "After warm-ups and skill presentations, then you could have your fights." He turned over his shoulder to look at Cal and Maven, as if asking permission.

Cal nodded along. "As long as no one gets hurt."

"Good." Arven stepped out of the sunlight and into the shade, still flanked by the two princes and the Provos telky. "Feel free to begin, ladies. Focus on strengths first, then weaknesses. Think of what would make you win, not to make your opponents lose."

In the arena, girls of all ages began their bright and violent displays of water manipulating, rocks exploding, and animals moving to the will of a Viper animo. Sonya and Elane immediately skipped to the much more enjoyable part—the fighting—though their instructor did not seem to care. Across the field, Evangeline Samos was dueling it out with an Osanos nymph and a Lerolan oblivion. Other girls found sparring partners as well, using the fountains and trees to their advantages.

Only Alix remained on her original post, her arms crossed, golden eyes drinking in the sight of every movement.

Maven approached her. "I thought you wanted to fight Sonya?"

"Well, I cannot fight her if she's fighting Elane, can I?" She scoffed. "You're not training?"

"This training is intended for the participants for the Queenstrial. Cal and I are not allowed to take part, though we are allowed to watch. If you're so concerned with my training, then don't worry. I have a schedule with my brother and all the other sons of generals and colonels in another arena."

"What I would give to be in _that_ arena instead."

"You'll get used to this one." He chuckled and tapped her shoulder, leaning close to her ear, whispering, "Southern Softie."

Her eyes were on Sonya's perfect movements and flawless backflips, but she whispered back, "You Northern Bastard."

With that, the prince returned to his brother's side, protected from the sunlight. The shade felt cool against his skin, and he knew Alix would do anything to be in the shade with them. Of all the years he knew her, he had already memorized her likes and dislikes. _She hates the light more than anything does._ Leaving a wraith in a sun-kissed courtyard was like leaving a fish out of water. It made them feel helpless, vulnerable, almost like a Red. But as usual, Maven knew Alix would have none of it.

Once the girls had had their fill of constant spars, Lord Arven took up his place again. His eyes lingered on the sweating girls, panting and looking all ragged. One girl did not break a sweat, the target of his next session.

"Princess Alistrine," he called out in his soft voice, as if he were talking to a child. "Everyone here is aware that Norta and Piedmont are close allies, almost like brothers-in-arms, yet they do not share everything in common. For example, your abilities. Would you mind stepping into the middle… to further our education?"

 _I do mind_. Yet Alix moved where the instructor bid her, at the center of the arena, surrounded by a flock of elite girls who wanted to have front-view seats. Even Evangeline watched from the sidelines, glowering. The princess fought the urge to rub at her eyes, the sunlight reflecting the glass roofs into a wide array of spectrum. If she was queen here, her first command was to shatter every glass room in this palace, and to commission for curtains. But that would never be. _I am simply a visiting princess, not a participant for the Queenstrial, not even Maven's choice for a bride._

Overhead, the clouds blotted out the sunlight—an indication that the show could finally start.

She began with languid flicks of her wrists, her own shadow following where her wrist went. The shadow curled around as if a ball of smoke, untouchable. Then, it shot upwards, moving like a projectile, hovering over them. Gasps resonated from the crowd, all except Evangeline and her lackeys Sonya and Elane seemed amazed. Alix felt the surge of her gaming mood returning into her. With a hidden smile, she summoned a tendril of shadow from the fountain and curled it around Sonya's neck. Alix yanked her hand back, and Sonya jerked towards her—like a puppet and a puppeteer. Elane interjected by grabbing the shadow, but it dispersed in her hand as if a smoke.

Arven's voice snapped. "Well done, Princess Alistrine."

Bowing after her little show, Alix then returned to her post, still earning glares, still friendless. At least Maven had the initiative to approach her, despite their on-going arguments. He handed her a bottled water, hoping it would ease her nerves and more importantly, her temper. He could still see in her eyes how she wanted to strangle the life out of Sonya for calling her Lady Caralis. From his peripheral vision, the Piedmont Guards were silently cheering for their princess, while Sonya was still busy catching her breath.

"If you did something more dangerous, Arven would have silenced you," he warned her.

"Oh, who cares?" She snatched the bottle and splashed the water against her flushed face. "If he tries to silence me, I shall have his own shadow choke him to death."

"Now, now." He clicked his tongue, admonishing her. "What would Queen Margaux say if she hears her daughter speak thusly? Or how would your brothers react? Surely they would not want you to forget your manners while you're here with us."

She took a deep breath, desperate to control her composure. She closed her eyes, as if it would shut off her abilities. When she opened them again, she found the elite girls sparring against each other once more. "I think I need a break."

"Then you can join Cal and me under the shade."

When both of them arrived, Cal congratulated Alix with a smile and shake of hand. "It was an interesting performance, Alix. It was truly essential for the education of everyone around here, especially to those who are not aware of the existence of wraiths from the other side of the world. I never knew your shadows could take solid form, until now."

"Making them solid is difficult," she said, taking a seat on the bench. At once, her Guards lined up behind her.

"You can practice with us everyday until the Queenstrial," Cal offered.

"I have had enough of these girls who want to be your bride, my lord."

"A pity," Cal murmured, "that you cannot compete alongside them. It would have made the trial more challenging."

Maven flinched at his brother's implication. Was Cal showing interest to Alix? It could not be possible. For years, Cal had never shown interest in any daughter of a lord, not even a female colonel or soldier at the war front. Even now, Maven doubted his brother's taste in women, though he somehow knew that Cal would never settle for a ditsy, clumsy bride. It was a relief that few of the girls here were actually worth to become his queen, like Evangeline.

"If I were to compete in your Queenstrial," Alix hummed, "then I would give you a hard time choosing for a wife, considering on how much you want to _marry_ me."

Cal's eyes gleamed as he laughed whole-heartedly. "Still, I would welcome you in the Queenstrial." He turned to his younger brother. "What about you, Mavey? Have you found someone who interests you yet?"

Alix quirked an eyebrow. "Maven's choosing, too? What is this, aiming for a double wedding or something?"

"It's hard to look for brides," Maven mumbled. "I simply do not have the time and luxury to dine and converse with all the girls and their families to find the right one." His eyes were back to the arena, watching Elane trade blows with Cyrine Macanthos, a stoneskin.

"So you just watch them?" Alix scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Real smooth there, my prince, real smooth. How are you supposed to find the right one if you're not mingling with them? What if the pretty girl you choose turns out to snore like a bear at night, or has anger issues, or maybe even picks her nose and eats—"

"Thank you, Alix, I think I understand what you mean," Maven cut her off, while Cal remained grinning.

"Still," she pursued. "Go out there and talk to the girl you like. You can't cross the sea merely by standing and staring at it." She stood up from the bench and directed a nod to both princes and the instructor. Then, she turned her heels and left the training hall, the white-and-gold Guards marching behind her like loyal dogs. She disappeared not long after, but none of the other girls seemed to notice.

Once she was gone, Cal frowned. "You must have said something that set her off."

"Great, now it's my fault."

"Not at all. Maybe we should save the talk of brides and marriage some other time, when people are less likely to act negatively." Cal smiled and joined the Arven and Provos telky back into the arena, to congratulate the girls on their first session in Training.

Maven just shrugged and let his eyes observe each girl that his brother was obviously not going to choose. There were a bunch of them, all thirty or so noble daughters who had the chance to become the next Princess of Norta, only second in power after Cal's chosen bride. There was Sonya Iral, but Maven knew how much she could be a temptress, having tempted Cal once to have some "fun". Elane Haven looked like a sweet girl, all smiles and giggles, but he found her dull and idiotic, an opinion he shared with his mother. Evangeline Samos was out of the question. If he and Evangeline were the last people in this world, he still wouldn't choose her. And there were still more girls to choose from: Viper, Macanthos, Osanos, Welle, and many more others. Until the Queenstrial, he had all the time to decide.

But the girl who was not even here plagued his thoughts.

 _The Southern Softie._

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Ah, I have updated later than I originally planned. So sorry, folks! I hope this little chapter makes up for it! Here we get to meet the familiar Silver nobles, particularly the Queenstrial participants. Cal must be quaking n his shoes now, seeing how so many girls want to be his one-and-only bride. Jokes aside (because we know Cal doesn't back down), Maven is in dire need of a girl's attention too! Who's willing to volunteer?!

* **Gabby0529** \- Thanks again for leaving a review! I think Cal has had enough share of girls in the main story, so why not give Maven a chance? I might be biased here though, since Mavey's a favourite of mine.

* **ShinigamiReiko** \- I hope this update made you jump out of your chair again. XD

* **Guest** \- Oh, thank you so much! I am trying my best to make this story as entertaining and different as possible!

* **Lyanna** \- Sshh! Don't let anyone know that Maven has this childhood crush on Alix! Oopss...


	5. Live Shadows

**Chapter 05**

 _ **Live Shadows**_

* * *

It was raining, and Alix welcomed the dark clouds and rumbling thunder.

Unfortunately, she was not allowed to leave her bedchambers when it rained, as if she would get soaked by just walking in the corridor. It was obvious that everyone was busy preparing for the Queenstrial tomorrow, and no one could escort her around the palace. Not even Cal or Maven. Surely, the crown prince would be too occupied exchanging handshakes and laughs with the others, and so would Maven, always trailing his brother's steps.

In the lovely dimness of her room, her thoughts returned to the two brothers, very close, yet so far away.

 _What does it feel to be a shadow?_

She stretched on her stomach, rolling on the bed like a lazy cat. Her ladies-in-waiting were huddled in the next room, sewing, gossiping, and whatever they could do to pass the time. Fiore had left a platter of strawberries and chocolate, some lemon cakes, and tarts before retreating from the room.

 _If I was a shadow, do I have to do everything my host does?_

At a distance, the thunder rumbled again. She waved her index finger in the air, a thin sliver of shadow following its movements. When she opened her palm, the sliver turned into dozens of tendrils, curling around legs of furniture, to the wardrobe, to the cold hearth. She raised her hand, and this time, the tendrils compressed into each other and emerged from the floor, taking a solid form of a young man. _What if Cal is the shadow? Would Maven want that?_ The shadow tilted its head to the side, its soulless black eyes staring back at her. It extended a right hand towards her, and she was about to accept it when somebody suddenly knocked on her door.

Instead of standing, she sent the shadow prince towards the door, opening it.

Fiore gasped, her green eyes wide with fear. "By my colors! I thought it was a ghoul in here with you, Princess!"

Alix rolled over but remained on the bed. Her silver hair was a mess of cowlicks and strands jutting out in all directions. "What news from the civilization that is Norta?" she asked in a dull voice.

"Ambassador Lerolan has recently returned from Piedmont," Fiore replied, entering the room with a cautious glance at the shadow. It moved behind her to close the door, and then walked back towards the foot of the bed, like an expectant soldier. "He might have a message or two for you, from King Umberto or any of your brothers."

"How come no one has informed me sooner?"

"Everyone is busy for the Queenstrial tomorrow." Fiore glanced at the balcony, the rain still pouring hard. "At this rate, they might cancel the event and then move it towards next week."

"I hope they do," Alix grumbled and stood up, dusting the bread crumbs off her nightgown. She manipulated the shadow prince to take the platter of pastries from her bed, to the bedside table. "I am allowed to see Lord Lerolan, yes?"

"Of course, Princess."

Thirty minutes later the timid girl on the bed was gone, replaced by a noble girl in a black dress, with a low collar and puffed sleeves. She finished the rest of her food, and then left the silence of her bedchambers with her Guards. The king's secretary, robed in the blue-and-grey of House Macanthos, met her entourage around the corner and led them from there. According to him, the ambassador returned not because for matters of the realm, but to cheer his niece for the upcoming event.

The royal family was in the drawing room, a lavish room filled with colorful paintings and bright chandeliers.

When Alix entered, it was not the king or queen that she first noticed, not even the two handsome princes seated on the couch, or the brown-haired ambassador in red-orange clothes. It was the twins.

"Hunter! Trey!"

The two boys, barely four years old, peered from their father's legs and gave a gasp of delight. Both raced towards her like two excited puppies, their amber eyes glinting with mischief. Alix dropped on her knees to embrace them, but the momentum knocked the three of them off-balance, with the boys laughing and giggling on top of her.

"You're here, you're here!" they said at the same time, before getting off Alix to allow her to sit up.

She laughed and placed her hands on their heads, as if trying to calm them. "Yes, I am. I am so glad that you're here, too. Have you been good boys like I told you?"

"Yes!" Trey raised his hand, his chestnut curls bouncing at the slightest movement.

Hunter grabbed her sleeves and asked, "Where's the wolf, Princess Alix? Can you show us the wolf again?"

"Please?" Trey begged, flashing puppy eyes.

"Oh, but you must promise me to behave and lower your voices." Her eyes met the king's eyes, which reflecting curiosity and surprise, and then the queen's, which showed great hostility. Alix tried to smile to the two boys, who eagerly promised to behave, and went back to her feet, dusting off her dress. It was the most undignified act for someone of her standing. Even Cal and Maven exchanged awkward looks, while the ambassador simply grinned.

"We promise," the twins said in unison again, crossing their hearts with a finger.

"Then you shall have your wolf." She made circular motions with her right hand, slowly manipulating the shadows. From the farthest corner of the room, the shadow took a towering figure of a black wolf, as large as a pony, its eyes and fangs also black. Instead of pouncing like a predator, it lopped towards Hunter and Trey, its tail wagging and its nose taking a curious sniff at their little hands.

At the couch, King Tiberias watched with great interest. He had seen wraiths use their abilities to their full extent, but never quite like this. The king and princes of Piedmont used theirs to rule the country in an iron-grip, yet here was the princess, making wolves out of shadows and playing around with children.

He leaned close to whisper in the ambassador's ear. "Are you quite sure she's not allowed to compete in the Queenstrial?"

Belicos Lerolan did not take his eyes off his sons, but answered, "It is sure, Your Highness, that the princess shall not compete, but only to be present and to pay respects. It is what Norta and Piedmont agreed."

"Too bad." The king sighed, sounding defeated. "We could have someone in Norta like her, a rare Silver with rare abilities." Then he turned to his eldest son. "Are you sure you don't want to choose her? You can still back out from the Queenstrial. It happened before, it can happen again."

From his mother's left side, Maven glared, though no one seemed to notice.

"Queenstrial is the right of the High Houses," Cal answered coolly, his red-gold eyes glued to the wolf running in circles, chased by the twins. "I simply cannot back out when it's one day away."

"He's right," Queen Elara chirped, smiling. "Let the girls enjoy the Queenstrial when they can. Right, Maven?" She turned to her side and winked at her son.

King Tiberias beamed as if a bulb dinged in his head. "Yes, Mavey… I suppose you haven't picked someone yet out of the other girls."

Maven gulped and nodded. "None of them interests me."

"Aren't you close with the princess?" the king asked. His gaze returned to the center of the room, where Alix was moving her hands to and fro, making the wolf chase the boys. "You have been escorting her since she arrived here, and even danced with her last week. It must mean something."

 _Something very unpleasant_ , Maven thought but held his tongue.

Finally, Alix left the children to play on their own and approached the royals. She curtsied, addressing them as "Your Royal Highnesses." Then she turned to Belicos and said, "How are you, Lord Lerolan?"

Belicos bowed and guided her to the couch beside the royals. "Never better, Your Ladyship. I can see you are getting radiant every day you're here in Norta. Shall I tell King Umberto that his daughter would stay longer?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Norta is a wonderful place, but nothing beats home. No offense, Your Highness."

"None taken, Alix," King Tiberias said, grinning. "It would be an honor for me if you decide to stay with us, _permanently_."

Maven was about to interrupt, but his mother grabbed his hand. Instead, Elara added, "Tomorrow, Norta would have a new princess. Something tells me that there could be two princesses."

Cal sensed that both Maven and Alix were uncomfortable with the topic. He cleared his throat. "Lord Lerolan, you brought messages from Piedmont. Perhaps the princess would want to read them in private."

Grateful of the distraction, Maven nodded and slumped back to his seat, breathless. Belicos retrieved his suitcase and fetched a handful of letters. Alix accepted the letters and excused herself with a bow. She spared Hunter and Trey an apologetic look, as the shadow wolf followed her out of the drawing room.

* * *

It amused her to read handwritten letters from her brothers, with all of them begging her one thing: to go home. Even her father, who was an extravagant man whose only concerns seemed to be parties and war, and thought letters only hurt his hand, had written a terse one saying that the family was nothing without Alix. Her mother who had pretended to be sick, seemed well enough to share a letter with her husband, to tell that Piedmont needed its princess, and that Alix was required to return once the Queenstrial was over. In one letter, her eldest brother Rainier had written:

" _Today we have postponed the visit to Ivrea. Certainly the media would be there, hounding us for news about the war with the Lakelands, or the alliance with Norta, or even asking about the possibility of a Kingstrial. Could you believe it? People are making up questions just to know how you are, Sunny—they are all looking for the bright princess that they know. Mother tells us we cannot appear onscreen without you: it is simply unfair to take photos without you. So come home soon. When Cal's Queenstrial ends, come home. We miss you, Sunny."_

She shuddered at the absurd, childish nickname—Sunny. What a laugh! As if a nickname like that suited a wraith like her. Her heels tapped on the floor as she paced along the passageway. She was gone for only a week and her brothers were losing their heads.

House Caralis of Piedmont favoured ranks and appearances after all. Everyone had been conditioned to see the family as they were: a father, a mother, four sons, and one daughter. Every meeting, every picture, every visit—all seven of them must be present. When one was either indisposed, sick or sent to the war front for meetings, the rest would not show themselves to the public. Sometimes Alix wondered if people were not fed up as the royal family posed in the same damn position all the _damn_ time: the two princes on either side, then the king and queen, and at the centre was the princess. It was annoying and exhausting, no wonder she liked being away from home for a change, even if she had to spend her time with an insufferable Prince of Norta.

Alix folded the papers and handed them to her Guards, then bade them off. She needed them not if she wanted to think this through. _To go home or not?_ Once she did go home, however, it meant she would have to face endless pictures and meetings flanked by her parents and brothers.

 _Always matched set_.

Now that she was here, a land full of opportunities, she would grab the chance never to be part of that matched set ever again.

Her constant pacing led her to the balcony that overlooked the gardens and the river that wound around Summerton. She stopped short, blinking at the sight of a certain dark-haired prince leaning against the railing.

Maven glanced over his shoulder, his expression gloomy. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." She walked towards him and noticed that the rain had stopped. "Rain brings out the sentimentality out of people, doesn't it? Are you here to brood? If you are, then I'll be on my way."

He chuckled. "Not brooding, just thinking. Stay, Alix."

Her eyebrow rose at his request. "Is something in your throat? You sound strangely weird."

"And you sound redundant," he countered, sad blue eyes returning to the grey clouds.

She leaned on the railing and peered at his face. It was unlike him to be melancholy. "What's the matter?" Yet she gave him no time to answer. An index finger covered the prince's lips, as she interrupted, "This is about you and looking for the right one, isn't it? Wait, lemme guess. You've chosen Tirana Osanos?"

"No," he grumbled, shrugging off the finger on his lips. "Not even close. And why are you so keen about Tirana Osanos?"

"Why not? She's an experienced fighter."

"Because I need an experienced fighter for a wife?"

"Or maybe you want someone as sweet as Elane." She wrinkled her nose in disapproval. "Not that I am saying she's not worth it, but I thought you have better standards, Northern Bastard."

"You insult me." Finally, Maven smiled. "I would prefer if my wife not be Elane Haven, or Sonya Iral, or Evangeline Samos—especially Evangeline."

"Then do tell me why you're brooding. I am not a whisper like your mother; I cannot read your thoughts. Even if I were, I wouldn't go into your head. I do not want to be infected by your stupidity."

"You're just afraid to be baffled at how intelligent I really am." He smirked, and then dropped his voice into a low whisper. "I think Father has already chosen a bride for me. You know that younger princes have the freedom to choose whomever they want, but apparently, my father has the balance of the realm in his mind all the time. I am not sure if I can take it, and I think, neither would be the girl."

She fell silent and listened, as though they were best friends confiding secrets to one another. She and Maven were not even close to being the best of friends, but she felt the need to listen to him, to hear his thoughts. First rule in the Silver world was that everyone was lonely. No one could really be himself without having people poking into your mind, telling you their expectations, controlling your movements. For the royals, loneliness was multiplied a hundred times over. She would know, especially being the center of a large family. _A matched set_.

"Do I know this girl?" she murmured, feeling sorry for him, but then she remembered who she was and scoffed at him. "Who's the _unlucky_ girl?"

Surprisingly, Maven laughed. _Boy, he must be too depressed about this marriage_. "You would know."

"Not Cyrine Macanthos, I hope. Her mother's a thundering force to be reckoned with."

"Try Welle."

She faked a loud, dramatic gasp. "Her? Oh no, I feel sorry for you already! Not only would you marry that bird-looking Heron, but also you will have to endure her squawking for the rest of your married lives. My sincerest condolences, my prince."

Life filled his eyes as he laughed again. "Well, it's not actually Heron Welle, but I thank you for your concern. Enough about me. What did the letters say? Does Prince Rainier want his precious sister back?"

"Oh, don't remind me."

"Why not? I thought you liked being at home?"

"But I like being _away_ from it more. Let's just say I enjoy Norta more than I do Piedmont, though the climate here bothers me, more so the prince." She shared a knowing smile with him. Her eyes drifted to the gardens below, shimmering from the raindrops. "I am less lonely here than in home."

At the corner of Maven's eyes, he noticed the shadows swirling behind them, as if dancing with the breeze. Slowly, carefully, the black wolf took form, its ears down and its mouth clamped shut. It sat on its haunches, waiting. _Shadows are not meant to be alive_. If he remembered his Lessons correctly, wraiths only had the ability to control darkness and shadows according to their will, like magnetrons and shivers. None had ever made creatures with minds of their own, like a magnetron with iron dogs or shivers with ice giants. He could never understand how Alix managed the wolf playing with the twins, though he was sure it took such strength and effort.

"Alix," he whispered, cautious of the wolf. One hand closed in on her shoulder, and she all but blinked and flinched.

"What?"

"Wolf."

She turned around and was aghast to see the same wolf, formed from the shadows. It cocked its head to the side, its black tongue lolling from its black mouth—acting as if a true, live creature. She backed away from it, horrified from the uncontrollable fits of her own ability, and the wolf moved forward, following her.

Maven threw himself in front of her and flames immediately covered his right arm. But the wolf remained passive.

"Sorry." Alix closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She concentrated on her ability. _This is getting out of control._ When she opened her eyes again, the shadows disintegrated and the wolf was gone.

The prince stared at her for a few minutes. "Maybe you're tired. You should get some rest. Tomorrow, you'll need your strength. Queenstrial will surely drain your energy, that's for sure." He smiled and lifted her chin. "See you at dinner, Alistrine."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Guess who's back with an update! So sorry for its lateness. I have been so occupied with school. In this chapter, some information about Piedmont's royal family are laid bare, and I hope you guys find it interesting as I had fun doing all the research and letting my imagination work. So the next chapter would be the Queenstrial—let's see how differently I would narrate it compared to Victoria Aveyard's storytelling. I had fun writing that, too. :)

* **Vikihungerrgame1** \- Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! I love the fact that we are both fangirling on Maven! His character remains a mystery to me, especially with that plot twist at the first book, but I am glad you think my portrayal of him matches with the book. I am hoping to delve deeper into his character with Alix around, since they know each other well, though not in so _good_ terms. But hey! About Alix's opinion with the Reds, I dare say that she doesn't give them much thought, like she does not hate them but she also does not pay attention to them. So passive of her. Reds are least of her concerns. Sounds cruel? Try Ptolemus and Evangeline. XD Anyway, thanks so much again!

* **thatstorywriter101** \- Here you go! I hope you enjoyed reading this one, my dear!

* **readwritereview20** \- I am glad to know that you're enjoying the story. I I do hope you'll stay for more chapters, and Alix's interactions with Maven might be a little challenging with the Queenstrial approaching. Now this is a _test_ to their ongoing rivalry. ;)


	6. Trial for Queens

**Chapter 06**

 _ **Trial for Queens**_

* * *

The morning of the Queenstrial had dawned bright and clear, without the trace of the heavy rainfall yesterday.

Alix had watched the dawn break from the horizon, too engrossed in her thoughts to even sleep. She thought of Maven, of his sad blue eyes looking at the clouds yesterday, with him too worried about his upcoming engagement to a girl Alix could not even guess. Throughout the night, she felt the need to slap herself silly, to maker her stop worrying about the stupid prince, but she found that she could not. _What does it feel like to be forced onto something you don't want?_ Then she had bonked herself on the head, reminding herself of the things back home. _I am always forced to sit in front of cameras and smile, laugh and dance as if the life of the whole family depends on it._

When Fiore knocked into her room, telling her it was time to prepare, Alix got off her bed and went to work.

Hours later, and taking her armored Sentinels with her, she meandered her way around the Hall of the Sun, searching for the dining hall. Once again, Secretary Macanthos escorted her in place of the two princes, whom she guessed were both too occupied with the upcoming event. To her utter surprise, the royals were already seated at the table, waiting for her. King Tiberias waved her over, Queen Elara smiled her sweet smile, Cal spared her a little nod, while Maven did not even meet her eyes. She did not mind. She knew the prince had more things in his head than to greet an old rival.

"Once you are mentioned," Elara explained during breakfast, "you must smile and wave, my dear."

Alix could almost roll her eyes. Had the queen forgotten that she was a princess, that smiling and waving must be perfected at three years old? Perhaps not, because the queen had no single drop of royal blood in her. _She may be noble, but she's not royalty._

"Then, you would make a little show for everybody," Elara continued, her voice sharper. It was no doubt that she heard what was in Alix's mind.

"What kind of show?" Alix asked, hoping to misdirect the queen's growing temper.

"A little showcase of ability," Tiberias answered for her, sipping from his second cup of wine. It was still morning and he was drinking, but he could hold his liquor well. He set the bejeweled cup down and looked at her. "Your grandfather had once put on a magnificent performance during my father's Queenstrial. He made thousands of ravens from each of the spectator's shadow, and made them fly into the skies. The Spiral Garden went black, the sun completely blotted by the ravens. It was an outstanding performance."

She heard that one before, often discussed at dinner with the family. She smiled at the king. "Well, I suppose I have to top that, wouldn't I?"

The king laughed good-naturedly, and the queen only smiled. "I know you can top that," Tiberias said, holding out his cup for a Red butler to refill. "You are always so better than your brothers."

Alix cast her eyes down at the comparison with her brothers, who were more scholars and politicians than fighters.

"Must she perform, Father, in the arena?" Maven asked with narrowed eyes.

"If she wants to."

"She's Princess of the Blood," the prince argued passionately, his eyes blazing like the ability he possessed. "She cannot go out there and perform like a common Silver."

For once, the king was speechless. He stared at his youngest son, wide-eyed, his mouth gaping behind his dark, bushy beard streaked with grey. The cup went forgotten in his hand. Beside him, the queen gave her son a proud nod. Across the table, seated between his father and Alix, Cal modestly wiped the corner of his mouth and cleared his throat.

"She can do it from the balcony she would share with us," Cal interrupted; his voice soft and quiet, almost inaudible. "She doesn't have to go down there. It would take a longer time for too much theatrics."

"I concur," Alix said, nodding. "Besides, it would make the girls think that I am competing. They might think I am stealing their precious prince away from them." At her words, Cal whipped his head to look at her. He seemed flabbergasted.

"A little tension in the air wouldn't be much trouble," the king murmured, but sighed in defeat. "Maven's right. Alix should not have to go there. I assume you can work from the balcony, Alix?"

"Of course, Your Highness."

"Wonderful," Elara chirped, and the breakfast continued as usual.

After eating, the king and queen disappeared to prepare their clothes. Cal and Maven, however, lingered in the dining hall as the servants scurried back and forth to clean the table. Alix didn't know who to approach first: the quiet, thoughtful crown prince or the brooding younger prince? Judging from the way Maven stared at the glass window, with the blinding sunlight on his face, she decided to approach Cal first, who seemed fine with observing the maids and butlers.

"Are you going to stare at them the whole day?" she asked him, her eyes also on the Reds. "I mean—don't get me wrong—watching people clean the table does seem _interesting_ to me."

Cal smiled. "I'm just thinking about what's going to happen today, that's all."

"Have you decided who to marry?"

"Choose," he corrected her. "And no, I haven't. I can choose after I watch them all."

"Just a word of advice, Cal, since I want you to survive your married life: don't choose an ambitious woman. She'll have you poisoned the moment she's crowned as queen and pregnant with your child."

"I know that, but some things are inevitable." He sighed and patted her shoulder, smiling through his eyes. "Thank you for looking out for me, Alix. You should go over to Mavey; I think he's the one who needs you more between us."

She turned around and saw Maven still near the window, glowering. She let her shoulders slump and nodded. "I suppose I should talk to him. Good luck on the Queenstrial."

With a polite bow, the crown prince was on his way, carrying an ethereal air about him. Not only the girls would be entranced by him, but also the High Houses and all the Reds watching their television screens, at home, at the Grand Gardens, everywhere. King Tiberias had made sure everyone watched his son's Queenstrial, so even the Reds could not argue. If everyone in the palace thought Cal was a perfect prince, then wait for the Reds to be baffled by him.

Alix winced at the smoldering light of the sun, one gloved hand raised to her forehead to cover her eyes. She approached the window and nudged Maven with her shoulder.

He blinked, as if he never felt her coming. His voice was monotonous as he said, "You look beautiful in your gown."

She turned her back against the sunlight, casting a long shadow in front of her, and leaned against the glass. Her eyebrow rose at his peculiar mood today. "You shouldn't have let that marriage ordeal keep you up at night."

He ignored her.

She pouted and tried again. "Smile, would you, Maven? It's the Queenstrial and heaven knows thousands of girls are wanting to get a glimpse on the Prince of Norta. If they see you frowning like that, they wouldn't find you handsome anymore."

"Is this how you cheer people up?"

"It is how I cheer _stupid_ people up," she corrected, leaning her face so close to him, prompting him to turn away. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, turning away from the window and looking down at her. "Just lost in thought, I guess."

"Don't be too long in your thoughts. Your mind is a dark place to be."

He chuckled. "Ready for your performance?"

"Not quite." It was her turn to frown. "I haven't a clue what I should do to top my grandfather's performance which was what—approximately fifty years ago?"

"Fifty-three, to be exact."

She rolled her eyes irritably. "I said _approximately_."

"You'll be fine," he assured her. "Just do what you think would be best. Let the people think what they want to think."

"Well, that's easy for you say, considering how many people would watch and have expectations on you, including the king and queen."

Maven smiled and stood in front of her, trapping her between him and the glass window. His hands came up to rest on her shoulders, while his blue eyes rested intently on hers. Alix held her breath, her arms hanging limp on her sides, and her eyes focused on the glittering medals pinned on the prince's black uniform. An index finger lifted her chin up, a silent demand for her to look at him. She complied, staring back at him, and waited for him to speak. When he leaned close to whisper in her ear, she thought her knees might go jelly on her.

"Sit beside me in the balcony, okay?"

She blinked and gave him a confused look. "Why in the world should I?"

"Just do it, Southern Softie." He laughed and walked off, his previous somber mood gone.

* * *

Half an hour later, Alix left her bedchambers to Fiore and the other ladies-in-waiting, allowing them to do whatever they wanted, as long as the room was in order once she returned. She took her Sentinels with her, all ten of them—silent, keen-eyed, and armored. Their helmets gleamed against the late morning light. They flanked their princess, and their company was one of golden and silver, the colors of House Caralis. Alix led them towards the Spiral Garden, which had previously been shown to her by Secretary Macanthos, because no prince or guard would escort her there. She crossed passageways and gardens, and finally came upon the large arena.

It was a curved open arena, with cushioned seats that spiraled all over the place, hence its name.

Maven was first to notice her arrival. "Ready?"

"Quite so. Your brother?" Her eyes went around in search for Cal.

"Busy," he answered tersely, a frown forming on his lips.

Behind the dark red velvet curtain, the royals flocked and waited for the announcement. King Tiberias looked splendid in his black-and-red uniform, with golden ribbons and medals pinned on his chest. His black hair was partially covered by the red-gold crown that he wore, a twisted ornament formed to take shape of a fiery crown. Beside him, Queen Elara was dressed in her house's colors, blue-and-white. Her ash-blond hair was pulled up into an elaborate bun, held back from her pale face by a glittering silver hair ornament.

Finally, Cal jogged back towards them and stood beside his brother, both of them looking similar in their military uniforms.

"Where have you been?" Maven whispered.

"I needed to check on something," Cal answered.

"What something? You've been distracted since last night, since you—" Maven clamped his mouth shut, aware of his brother's constant sneaking out of the palace to mingle with the Reds. Something must have happened last night. Cal had never been this distracted before.

"It's nothing big," Cal murmured, avoiding his brother's glaring look.

Before Maven could say something else, the queen walked over towards their group. "Everyone ready?"

There was a collective murmur of "Yes" between the two princes.

A perfect eyebrow raised. "Alistrine, dear?"

Alix sighed, but curtsied. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Excellent." Elara clapped her hands in feigned delight and returned to her husband.

When trumpets sounded and the crowd began to cheer and clap, everyone knew it was show time. The Sentinels took their places behind the king and his family, whilst Alix's own Sentinels were forced to stay behind, hidden behind the curtains. She spared them an apologetic look as the curtains parted. At once, she winced at the sunlight, momentarily blinding her again. _Someone needs to fix the light in this damned place_. She felt someone's hand on the small of her back, calming her.

"It would be over soon," Maven murmured in her ear. For once, she would have welcomed his reassuring words, before he added, "Stop being a baby, Alix."

Under her heavy-lidded eyes, she saw the king step into the light and heard the loud burst of cheering from the High Houses. An announcer introduced the king, his voice booming throughout the whole arena. _Tiberias Calore the Sixth, King of Norta, Flame of the North._

Then, the queen's tapping heels reached her, as Elara entered the balcony with a sweet smile. She nodded only once, to the house seated below the royal's seats. In return, her relatives from House Merandus saluted and bowed to her—the talented daughter who had once competed in a different kind of Queenstrial, and now she was Queen of Norta. All around the place, everyone knew someone was going to take her titles soon.

Alix was surprised when the Sentinels followed, not the princes.

"It's for pageantry," Maven explained, sensing her confusion. "All for show, since there is news about threats from the Scarlet Guard."

"Scarlet Guard?" She heard the name several times before in Piedmont, a rebellious group comprised of Reds who wanted to overthrow the country. Her brothers thought they were all but weak and small, a silly little band of ambitious peasants. "There are threats from the Scarlet Guard?"

"Attacks and threats. Archeon was recently bombed."

She gasped, but then Cal interjected to ease her.

"It's nothing we cannot handle, Alix," the crown prince said, eyes blazing with determination. "When we get solid leads to their whereabouts, the Security would move at once."

Maven sighed and nodded. "Exactly. Now it's our turn. Here we go."

King Tiberias's powerful voice cued his sons' entrance. "The time has come again to uphold this ideal, and both my sons honor our most solemn custom." He waved his hand, and Cal and Maven both stepped into the balcony. He introduced Maven first. "The Prince Maven, of House Calore and Merandus, son of my royal wife, the Queen Elara."

Dutifully, Maven waved his hand from left to right, assessing the entirety of the arena. He smiled brightly, as if he wanted there was no place in the world he would rather be. But the twitch on the corner of his lips screamed that he wanted nowhere around here. When he was done forcing a smile, he glanced over his shoulder to look at his brother. In turn, Cal nodded to Alix.

Tiberias continued, "And the crown prince of House Calore and Jacos, son of my late wife, the Queen Coriane, heir to the Kingdom of Norta and the Burning Crown, Tiberias the Seventh."

Cal took the spotlight, the cheers for him louder and livelier. Like Maven, he smiled and waved, nodded to the few generals he spied near the balcony. His ebony hair complimented the charcoal black of his uniform, the medals also dangling on his chest. He was regal and prepared, as if he owned the Queenstrial as much as the girls had the right to compete in it. Beside him, his father watched on, obviously prouder than any father did.

Alix waited until the cue for her entrance was mentioned. She waited behind the curtains, surrounded by her Sentinels. Her mind racked about the little performance she would do, as the king continued to blather something about honoring the kingdom and the prince, claiming the Queenstrial, and calling for Lord Provos. Suddenly, she lurched forward as the earth began to shake, as if an earthquake plagued the place. One of her Sentinels caught her by the arm and steadied her, as the ground continued to move and turn. Next, a whir of something mechanical reached her ears. Something was crackling and blazing not too far from her, but she could not peek. She certainly could not appear without proper introduction.

"Before the Queenstrial," King Tiberias said, and the crowd hushed to listen to his voice, "the noblest guest from our closest ally, the Kingdom of Piedmont, has come to honor our traditions. Now, with great pleasure, I bid you come forward, Alistrine of House Caralis, Princess of Piedmont."

 _My battle cry_. She could almost weep at the absurdity of it all. Someday she would change that. But not yet.

She lifted her chin, as proud as any princess, and stepped forward, the sunlight warming her skin through her golden gown. Instead of curtsying as Queen Elara had told her before, she waved her hand like the princes, meeting everyone's eyes; some glared, the others looked confused. She cared not. All she cared for was the image that the cameras were transmitting to each and every television screens. Her family would be watching, she knew; and King Umberto and Queen Margaux would not want their daughter be embarrassed.

A sharp voice suddenly entered her head. _Time for a little performance_ , Elara whispered.

Her hand stopped waving and swept in front of her, gesturing as if a dancer would. The crowd fell silent, watching, blinking, uncomprehending. Alix's hand remained suspended in midair, as the shadows from each corner of the arena—from behind the seats, fountains, trees, to the audiences—moved at a dizzying pace. The shadows gathered in the middle of the arena, pulsing like black fire. She raised her hand, now curling it into a tight fist; and the shadow slammed into the ground, disappearing. Beside her, she could see Maven's bewildered eyes.

 _Eat this, you fools._

With another wave of her hand, the shadow re-emerged from the ground. A black creature clawed its way out of the earth, heaving itself silently to the surface. First came its clawed hands and long arms, then the humungous head in shape of a forgotten beast in legends. Its neck was long and curved; its body thick and seemingly heavy, but the creature moved in utmost silence. The body followed next and the curling tail. Everyone gasped and clapped, staring at the black dragon with immense delight and awe. Alix moved her hand, panting and sweating, as the shadow dragon circled around the arena, meeting the lords and ladies' eyes with its own soulless dark eyes. Its teeth, as long as swords, were dark as the night.

From a fist, Alix opened her hand, palm up, and the dragon suddenly moved to open its bat-like wings. Another applause went up the crowd as the dragon took flight, launching itself off the sun-kissed arena. It flew towards the lightning shield, which protected the Silvers from any harm. People gasped and screamed for the dragon to stop. The creature then slammed itself against the lightning. There was no explosion that the crowd expected. Instead, the dragon disappeared into tendrils of smoke, returning to its original state—a shadow.

Alix ended her performance with heavy pants, but tried to look nonchalant, and smiled for the cameras.

"Wraiths!" King Tiberias cheered, laughing and clapping. "Wraiths of House Caralis!"

The High Houses joined him, as Alix sighed and slumped back to her seat.

Maven sat beside her, wide-eyed. "That… that was the greatest performance."

She panted, waving her hand dismissively. "I need no compliments right now."

"You overdid yourself, Alix," Tiberias pointed out, taking his seat at the center of the balcony. His eyes gleamed with obvious enthusiasm and delight for her. "You certainly topped your lord grandfather."

"Thank you, Your Highness." She smiled and straightened herself on her seat, as Maven called out for a servant. She narrowed her eyes at him as one dark-haired Red arrived with a platter of freshly baked lemon cakes. In an instant, her mouth watered.

Maven laughed, the bastard. "I told you to sit beside me. Here you go, for your efforts."

They shared the cakes as the little girl from House Rhambos stepped into the arena and began to display her superhuman abilities to crush statues and make the ground shake. After she was done batting her eyelashes at Cal, she disappeared and someone else took the center. The second girl was from House Welle, the greenwardens. She had the same face as the bird she was named after, Heron.

Alix nodded to the Welle girl. "If you had chosen her, you would rather have a hard time raising your bird-faced children."

"Good thing I didn't choose her, hm?" Maven's head was close to hers, almost touching, as if both of them were conspiring secrets with each other.

"Definitely, otherwise I would be stuck attending your wedding and enduring a squawking bride." She snickered.

Queen Elara's head whirled towards their direction, and she sneered. "Alistrine, a princess does not speak thusly to her fellow—"

"Princesses?" Alix cut off, munching on her cake.

"Ladies," the queen finished and let the argument end at that as another girl entered to show her abilities. House Osanos stood up and cheered for their girl, tall and dark-skinned, about Cal's age.

A few dozens of girls had already performed by the later afternoon. Many times the Red servant had to return to deliver another batch of cakes for the prince and princess, much to the chagrin of the queen, though Elara spoke nothing against them. On the other side of the balcony, Cal watched with less and less interest with each girl. Soon, he was stuck at staring at his hands, sighing, and surprisingly, munching on a cake as well. The king allowed this, who did not seem to begrudge his favorite son of anything.

When Evangeline Samos finally stepped into the spotlight, the king and queen sat up straighter, while Cal's thoughts were elsewhere.

"Look at that smug face," Alix grumbled under her breath, glaring at Evangeline through the lightning shield. "If she gets chosen, I'm out of here."

"I thought you only hated Sonya Iral?" Maven blinked.

"Who cares? I can pinpoint whomever I dislike and be on my merry way. Unless they beg to differ and want to challenge me for it, then I would be up and ready to go." Her voice carried an air of haughtiness from a princess indulged since birth. Somehow, it did not catch Maven off-guard.

Clad in black leather jacket, pants, and boots, Evangeline looked like a soldier ready to win this Queenstrial. Her silver hair was braided behind her back, grey blades and bullets were all over her outfit. Her family all shouted her name, calling out "Magnetron" repeatedly, clapping their hands like excited little fools. Only two figures were not clapping, one the patriarch of the house, and the other a young man with the same silver hair and black feverish eyes. Evangeline saluted to them first, then to the royals, and began to display her deadly metal manipulating abilities.

Maven turned away from the show, sighing.

"What's the matter?" Alix asked, also turning away. She could care less what Evangeline had in store for the competition. "Something wrong?"

"I do not even have to strain my eyes," he said. "At this point, Cal's going to choose her."

Her gaze drifted from the prince to Cal, whose attention was focused on his hands, rather than the show itself.

Below them, Evangeline began to make the boxes move out of their places from the arena, pulling out one with a series of clacking metals and thudding noises. People gasped and panicked, holding on to railings. Alix searched for Evangeline's face, and all she saw was the hunger and thirst reflected in her black eyes. _She's challenging me_ , she realized with a frown. _She wants to top my performance with the dragon._

Suddenly, Alix felt the need to counteract, to pit her shadow dragon against Evangeline's twisted metals and knives. Her hand almost curled into a fist, prepared to summon the creature—when someone fell into the lightning shield.

Maven pulled her away from the edge; his arms were on her shoulders protectively, as if she was the one falling, not the Red servant in a red uniform.

Everyone watched as the girl stumbled onto the lightning shield, the hissing and cracking of electricity deafening to their ears. When the girl tried to sit up, the shield gave away, lurching her headfirst onto the ground. The Silvers gasped and murmured, all of them peering out of the railings, all confused and terrified. Then, as if a miracle, the strange girl moved and stood up, standing a few feet away from the angry Evangeline. She said something, and Evangeline answered with a torrent of sharp blades. The blades never hit the girl, as another wave of purple-white sparks escaped from her palms. A stream of lightning followed suit, crashing against the stonewall.

In the balcony, the king growled. "Sentinels."

Hundreds of uniformed Sentinels rushed in to apprehend the girl, who sensed that she was in trouble, and was smart enough to run for her life.

Also in a rush, Cal turned his heels and sprinted off, following the Sentinels. He shrugged off his father's insistent calls and disappeared into the hallway.

"Well, what now?" Queen Elara singsonged, which elicited a low grumble from the king.

Tiberias rested his hands on the railing and watched as every camera pointed at the running girl and Sentinels. Soon, the news would be all over the country, to Piedmont, and more embarrassingly, to the Lakelands. He could not let that happen. He could not let millions of people, Silvers and Reds alike—especially the Reds—to find out more about the servant girl who survived the lightning shield.

He turned beside him, his eyes resting on the girl comforted by his youngest son, whose abilities might save him. "Alistrine," he called in an authoritative voice.

Alix had been too engrossed to hear the king's voice. She flinched. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"It's time for the _night_ to come."

She understood what he meant. Her fist went up in the air again, directing all the shadows in the arena to her will. Instead of a giant dragon, the shadow rose up the air, at the same level where the previous lightning shield had been. Then, when she opened her palm, the whole Spiral Garden was engulfed in darkness.

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : Hello again, everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I had fun writing it. With the Queenstrial over, we know a certain _someone_ who's going to join the fray. How would Alix cope to Mare's presence? How would Maven adjust? Again, reviews, comments, suggestions, and opinions are greatly appreciated. See you all in the next update!

* **readwritereview20** \- Thank you for leaving another review, my friend!

* **Gabby0529** \- Don't we all? But Mare begs to differ, I think. ;)

* **Lalola** \- OMG! You came up with a shipping name! I am definitely gonna use that, too. Go Mavix!

* **ShinigamiReiko** \- It's obvious to everyone to except Maven and Alix themselves. Imagine Elara teasing Maven out of it though XD

* **Guest** \- Maven's just full of surprises. LOL

* **DeltaBlairLines** \- Yes! This suggestion is a must! :D

* **Cassie** \- Oh, thank you so much! I did enjoy myself creating her character and making up her ability. My imagination continues to flourish every time!


	7. Disastrous Results

**Chapter 07**

 _ **Disastrous Results**_

* * *

 _It's a disaster._

No matter which angle Maven tried to look at, he knew the answer already. He had followed his parents after the accident at the Spiral Garden, but somehow lost track of them. Instead, he and few of his Sentinels trudged back towards the upper levels in the palace, escorting the Piedmont princess, confused and bewildered as everyone else who watched the Queenstrial.

The Piedmont Sentinels formed a line behind the prince and princess, whilst a pair of Nortan Sentinels flanked them, obscuring them both from view.

Maven's hand rested gently on the small of Alix's back, guiding her forwards. "It'll be fine, I am sure Mother can fix this."

"Are you?" Alix retorted; her face contorted into one of anger and disagreement. "Are you sure everything would be fine after a Red miraculously survives the lightning shield and fires a lightning towards Evangeline?"

He chewed on his lip. He was only trying to comfort her, now all he got was contempt. "It's all under control."

"You can drown yourself with that lie," she whispered, her words intended only for him. "But I saw it. Everyone saw it. If I had not even—"

"Alix," Maven growled, glaring. His eyes met her golden ones in a heated showdown, until he slumped his shoulders in defeat and sighed. The hand on the small of her back rubbed her through her gown, as if trying to soothe her and himself. He had nothing else to tell her, no more lie to spout until his mother refilled him. Until then, all he could do was smile, pretend that nothing was out of place, when everything was actually in disarray.

Much to his relief, the princess understood. _Better to lie than risk more trouble._

"If not me, I would send someone to bring the news to you," he said, leading her towards the end of the hallway, to her apartments. Her Sentinels broke from the group to stand beside the doors. "Preferably Secretary Macanthos, but I reckon he would be occupied with other matters."

"Worry less about me." She stood in front of him and gave him a hard look.

"I—I can't," he heard himself say, a shocker. "It's my duty to escort you on all times, to make sure you're attended and well-treated…"

"Well-treated?" She scoffed, her voice playful and teasing. "If I remember correctly, that first night during the masquerade, you really did not treat me well. The day after that, too. You boiled my soup and laughed at me. Is this the hospitality of Norta that I deserve?"

He smiled, welcoming the thought of a playful banter. "Last time I checked, you almost made me fall when we danced, spilled good soup on my uniform, and held me upside-down on top of a fountain. Now who's worse?"

"I think he's someone named Maven."

"Oh? I am quite sure it was Alistrine."

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Don't you have to be annoying somewhere else?"

"Actually, I have to meet Father and Mother in the drawing room, lots of topics to be tackled and discussed. You know how it works. However, times like this are tough, so I would leave some of the Sentinels with you." He turned around and said, "Sentinel Viper, Sentinel Gliacon—"

"There's no need for that." She grabbed his sleeve, stopping him.

The look on his face said that he would allow it. "It's a precautionary measure," he murmured.

"I have a dozen of Sentinels with me, five ladies-in-waiting in the other room, and I have myself. I think that is more than enough for a precautionary measure." She smiled, a rare smile used for comfort. "I can handle myself if things get awry."

Maven nodded reluctantly. He had always seen her as the prissy little girl that he had almost forgotten who she was, and to which family she belonged. It was hard to think that House Calore turned to House Caralis for help, especially when times of war.

 _Wraiths, manipulators of shadows and darkness_. Back in the olden days, when his grandfather King Tiberias the Fifth lived, Alix's grandfather Umberto the Eight, then King of Piedmont, was the general of the Specter Legion. Umberto had isolated the captured enemies in a dark room, deprived them of sunlight, and made the shadows dance in there. Not a month later, all Lakelander spies went mad and spineless. A Silver with his ability was deemed an asset to the kingdom, like the silences of House Arven. His ability made the alliance between Norta and Piedmont stronger. _Wraiths, who could break people out of their fear of the dark—to think Alix is one of them._

"Of course you can take care of yourself." The prince could do nothing but agree. He opened the door for her and watched her enter. "Stay here until news come, understood?"

"Clear as water, dummy."

He was aghast. "You cannot talk to me like that, not in front of the Sentinels."

Again, the haughty roll of her eyes. "Clear as water, _my prince_."

With that, Maven left her in company of her own Sentinels, as he turned his heels and walked away. Viper and Gliacon followed him with face as hard as stones, but the prince paid them no attention more than necessary. He set himself on finding his mother.

Judging on the time passed from the Spiral Garden to escorting Alix, the queen must have gotten some answers to their questions. Elara could be anywhere, in the cells or in the throne room, but when Maven went straight to his bedchambers, he was surprised of the pale figure sitting on the edge of his bed.

His mother stood up. "Took you long enough," she hissed, eyes narrowing. "Often I wonder how that Piedmont wench _exactly_ takes too much of your time, dear. It makes me believe that you enjoy her company more than you admit."

"I am not here to argue about Alix." His voice was hard, commanding; and the queen swallowed the words she had in mind. He crossed the spacious room and sat on the velvet couch adjacent to the bed. "What news about the Red girl?"

"She's bad news, perhaps even the worst news we ever have since the Scarlet Guard."

"How did she survive? How did the lightning bolt happen?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. " _What_ is she?"

"A Red through and through, but also something else." She sat back on the bed and smoothed her white-and-blue skirt, as if the matter was not trifling enough. "I looked through her records and into her mind. She is born Red, but her lightning ability is authentic."

Maven gritted his teeth. _It's a disaster_ , he told himself again. _I have not even gotten far with my plan, and here comes another problem._

"We should take this as an opportunity," Elara interrupted, clearly hearing his thoughts. "We worked so hard on this, Maven. We planned this for months, years even. We have the pieces correctly in their places."

"But we have an additional piece into the game."

She smiled wickedly. "You should not feel so threatened. A Red girl with Silver abilities shall not threaten a future king—the _rightful_ king. She would be all but a challenge."

 _A challenge_. He could find a way out of this; he always had. The Prince of Norta could handle any problems thrown at his direction. What more if he became king? He should take this as an opportunity to strengthen himself, to make himself known.

"Has Father decided what to do with her?"

"Oh, Tiberias is as clueless as an ox." Her voice dripped with utmost disdain for her husband. "He's afraid of the Scarlet Guard, he looks for the Sentinels for protection, he even asks Alistrine to cover his miscalculation, and now he depends on me to find out about this strange girl. Your father is a _weak_ man—one without determination, passion, and cause. Cal is different; he's intelligent and strong, who knows what he wants, but he would consume us all in fire. He has a soldier's mind, and he would do nothing but lead us to greater wars." Then, her voice softened, only for her son. "Cal has been taught that kingship is his right. You, my son, should know kingship is your duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them."

Maven nodded. He considered her words, drilling them into his mind. _I am twice the prince Cal could be, and ten times the king he would ever be._

"And a king needs a queen," Elara chirped, her eyes glinting with mischief. In rare times like this, she showed her rare self—a mother who loved her son.

"I am still trying to process the Red girl, and now you're mentioning marriage," he grumbled under his breath.

"Oh, don't fret, Maven. I have a plan about the peasant. At this rate, with your father too blind to see, he would agree."

His brows furrowed. "Agree to what?"

"You shall find out when we meet later in the throne room." She tutted at his interruption. "Now, tell me how things are transpiring between you and the Piedmont girl."

"She has a name," he snapped.

"Fine. Has Alistrine given any implications that she wants to return to Piedmont?"

Deep down, Elara needed not to ask. She had been into Alix's mind several times, without her knowing. Every time she whispered, all she could see and hear were Alix's desperate thoughts not to return to her home. Oftentimes Elara laughed to know that the princess hated being with her family, to be a beautiful decoration in her father's festive court.

"So far, she tells me she enjoys Norta."

"A good sign, no? A wraith for a queen would definitely instill fear to Reds and Silvers alike."

He glared. "I am not keeping her here for that reason."

"Pray tell me then, for what reasons do you keep her?"

Maven opened his mouth, but no words came out. With his mother's intense gaze, he could already imagine her worming her way into his mind; but they both knew the answer. The queen was simply toying with him, as she always did.

A sudden knock from Sentinel Gliacon cued that their meeting was adjourned.

Elara stood up and smiled. "You are expected in the throne room in half an hour. Think about what was spoken here, and prepare for the revelations later." She approached and stooped to kiss his black hair, and then walked out of the room.

The kitchens were located at the lower levels, where it was accessible to everyone in the palace, both to the guests and servants. Maven took his remaining time to head to the kitchens, just to ease his mind about the previous discussion in his bedchambers. Once again, his pair of Sentinels came along. At the kitchens, he found the head chef running in all over the place, shouting orders.

"Chef Nornus," the prince called out, waving the chef over to him.

Instead of running to the prince, the chef nodded and remained on the counter. His twin appeared beside Maven, looking exactly the same as the chef himself. "Your orders, my prince?"

"What do you have that is ready for consumption?" he asked, standing on his tiptoes to take a glance at the ovens.

"We have recently baked a batch of cookies," Nornus answered, as more images of him broke off the main body and ran towards the oven. One clone returned with a silver tray, and another lifted a basket of apple pies. "Which one would His Lordship want?"

Maven almost stumbled at the sight of four chefs, but then he remembered what House Nornus was known for. _Cloners, confusing people since time began_. "Send those cookies and pies to the Princess of Piedmont. Her apartments are in the western wing, farthest corner. Her Sentinels would know if you approach."

The three other clones disappeared, as Chef Nornus himself walked towards the prince. He had a mane of brown hair, cut and combed neatly under a hairnet, with his warm grey eyes gleaming at Maven. "Off to send gifts to the princess, my lord?"

"Not quite." Maven laughed it off. "It's late in the afternoon. I am sure Alix would appreciate the food. Send my regards to her, would you?"

"Of course, Your Highness." Nornus bowed as the prince exited the kitchens.

 _Well, that went well. Now I need to stop worrying about Alix and start worrying about the Red girl._ Maven ran his fingers through his hair and headed straight to the throne room. He was surprised at the few Sentinels posted at the doors. _Must be a very big thing, indeed_. The guards bowed to him and opened the door, and Viper and Gliacon were forced to wait outside, if not leave completely.

His gaze landed on Cal at once, standing on their father's right. He was quiet and looked guilty about something. Maven wished he had his mother's whispering ability right now, but with the queen standing to the king's left, he knew his mother already knew what was in Cal's mind. _I could ask her later_. Tiberias's eyes were on him as he entered, silently judging him, making him feel uncomfortable in his own home, in his own skin. Only his mother's presence comforted him.

He went to stand beside his brother, and whispered, "What's happening?"

Cal flinched, then murmured, "We are to meet her here. Father has no other choice but to interrogate her."

In front of the king, a table stacked with yellowish paper stood. Neither Tiberias nor Elara thumbed through the papers, with the king too fearful of what he might discover while the queen already knew everything. All four of them waited, until Officer Lucas Samos, Evangeline's forgotten cousin, arrived with the prisoner in tow. Her head was bowed, eyes locked on her new boots. Lucas bade the girl stop at the center of the room, before taking the other officers out.

"You will kneel." The queen's hands were clasped together, her ash-blond hair still perfectly pinned in a perfect bun.

"I will not," the Red girl said, meeting the queen's pale eyes.

The king interjected, asking, "Do you enjoy your cell, girl?"

Beside him, Maven felt Cal harden. He observed his brother through his peripheral vision, attempting to discern what made Cal flinch and distracted. _It must be her_ , Maven concluded to himself, paying half of his attention as his father recited the information about the girl's life. _Mare Molly Barrow, born November seventeenth, 302 of the New Era, to Daniel and Ruth Barrow._ Instead of listening, Maven shifted and suddenly felt the growing heat between him and his brother. All he could do was place a gentle hand on Cal's shoulder, hoping to calm him.

His thoughts about Cal's strange behavior shifted back to Alix. He imagined her delightful face, the gleam in her golden eyes, as she received the cookies and pies. Of all the years he spent arguing with her, he knew of her likes, from eating to causing mischief to others, though the latter was only intended for her own entertainment.

Suddenly, the king's powerful voice snapped him back to reality.

"We cannot kill you, Mare Barrow," Tiberias said. "So we are going to hide you in plain sight where we can watch you, protect you, and attempt to _understand_ you."

Cal finally found his voice to interrupt. "Father!"

Maven stepped in to hold him back, grabbing his brother's arm. "Cal, you have to be calm," he whispered. To his relief, Cal protested no further.

The queen's lips pursed as the king announced, "You are no longer Mare Barrow, a Red daughter of the Stilts."

Everyone in the room was silent as Tiberias laid out Mare's new identity. She was to be a long-lost daughter of Lord Ethan Titanos, the general of the Iron Legion. He and his wife Nora Nolle were killed at the war front, and their infant daughter was taken to the Stilts to be reared and taken cared of. The lies fell smoothly from the king's mouth, as if those were the truth. His voice did not waver as he instructed Mare what to believe: that she was a lady of a lost High House, and now restored to her rightful place in the Silver world.

"You are Silver, a lady of a lost High House, a noble with great power, and one day, a princess of Norta."

Cal inhaled sharply, whilst Maven tried to catch his mother's eyes. He remembered her words in the room. _Prepare for the revelations_.

"You will marry my son Maven, and you'll do it without putting a toe out of line," King Tiberias declared, without a hint of remorse in his voice.

Sputtering, the younger prince's bewildered eyes turned from this Red girl, to his father, and then his mother. Maven's temper flared, the flame-maker bracelet clinking and producing sparks, and him prepared to fight for what he believed in. _I am a Prince of the Blood, noble-born, intended for greatness_. His disapproval of the engagement was reflected in his eyes, though his face donned the same confused look as Mare. He stepped forward, hoping to give his father a piece of his mind—as Alix would certainly do—but this time, Cal held him back from protesting.

"I don't understand," Maven blurted, snatching his arm from his brother's grip. "She's—why?" _I am a Prince of the Blood, and one day a king._

For a moment there, Tiberias gave his son an apologetic look. He would want him to marry someone of great standing, whose noble birth could be turned into an asset into the kingdom. If Cal were to marry the most talented daughter from the Queenstrial, Tiberias would want the most powerful daughter, who happened to be locked in her bedchambers not three stories above him, to marry Maven.

"Quiet," Elara snapped. "You will obey."

 _You can't command me_ , his mind screamed.

"This seems a bit… much," Mare interjected, her voice uncertain. "You don't want to make me a lady, much less a princess."

Maven tried to process everything, while his father explained the recent bombings in Archeon. _She's Red, maybe she knows about the Scarlet Guard._ His expression was grim, with Cal's hand still on his shoulder. Somehow, it calmed him. It calmed him to know that his brother looked out for him even in the tightest, most confusing situation.

When the girl suddenly mocked him, he bristled.

"My name is Maven," he said, but his voice turned soft and quiet. If it had been Alix who made fun of him, who even laughed at this kind of ordeal, he would have glared. _No, keep your thoughts away from Alix for now_. He swallowed his pride and said again, "And I still don't understand."

"What Father is trying to say is that she represents an opportunity for us." Cal sighed. He spoke with all the wisdom of a young prince raised to rule his country. "If the Reds see her, a Silver by blood but Red by nature, raised up with us, they can be placated. It's like an old fairy tale, a commoner becoming the princess. She's their champion. They can look to her instead of terrorists." Then, his authoritative, confident voice faltered into a soft whisper: "She's a distraction."

The queen agreed, nodding her head. "You will live here, but you will be scrutinized. From now on, you live on the edge of a knife. One false step, one wrong word, and you will suffer for it. Come to think of it—" Suddenly, her voice was playful, turning her gaze to Maven. "There's a princess living with us right now, coming all the way from Piedmont. Perhaps you can learn a thing or two from her, in regards to perfecting courtly manners and well, presenting yourself as a learned young woman, not a peasant girl from the streets."

Tiberias nodded thoughtfully, stroking his beard like a grandfather. "Yes, Alistrine would remain with us until the Parting Ball. Besides Cal's chosen bride, you could get along well with Alix."

Mare blinked and tried hard to remember what happened at the Spiral Garden a few hours ago. She remembered a girl in a golden gown, her stark silver hair pulled up in the same updo as the queen. Mare thought the Silvers had always been pale, because of their silverblood, but she found the princess paler than any other Silvers she came across. Her abilities, too, were rare; and the shadow dragon that she manipulated had caught Mare and the other Red servants unawares.

"What do you think, Maven?" Elara chirped. "Do you think Alix would appreciate her?"

The prince's blue eyes were on Mare, assessing her from head to toe. "I think Alix would be interested in her well enough. New faces fascinate her."

"In that case, you would be scheduled at my discretion," the queen announced. "Remember, girl, you are now one of us. One miscalculation would result in painful circumstances."

 _It's still a disaster._

Maven forbade his Sentinels to follow him. He wanted to be alone, where no one could judge him and tell him what do to, and how to handle the ordeal by himself. Even with his mind occupied with so many things, he knew exactly where to turn, which staircase to take, and what floor he needed to go. When he reached the western wing and came upon the Piedmont golden-and-silver Sentinels, he knew he came to the right place.

He knocked on her door, regardless of the courtly tradition that no boy and girl should be in the same room. _I could care less of stupid traditions right now_. The air around him turned dense with heat, as he heard a click on the lock and someone opened the door.

Alix blinked, not expecting to see a prince. "Maven?"

Without thinking, Maven threw his arms around her, pressing her small frame against his taller build. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent—rosewater essence from her skin, lavender from her clothes.

Her hands came to rest tenderly on his back. "What is it? What happened?"

She glanced over her shoulder and Fiore ushered the other ladies-in-waiting to the other room. The Sentinels closed the door behind them and marched a few steps away, giving them privacy.

He drew back, breathless. "Everything's turned into complete disarray."

"What do you mean?" She pulled him towards the bed and sat him there.

"Shut off the lights. I need time to think." He groaned and rubbed his eyes.

"Okay, first I was confused. Now I am _concerned_."

Despite everything, Maven found himself chuckling.

Across the room, Alix flicked her wrist and darkness engulfed the place as if it was night. Darker than the night. Even with Maven's eyes open, he could not see beyond the reach of his hands. He felt the mattress sink beside him, and felt Alix's comforting presence. Searching blindly in the shadows, he rested his head against her shoulder and closed his eyes, sighing.

He could tell her a thousand things, he could shout and rant about how he never wanted to be betrothed to a Red girl with Silver abilities, or he could swallow his pride and continue on his day like normal. But Alix's reassuring voice in the darkness was more than enough to soothe him.

"You can fight this, Maven. Whatever it is, you can fight it."

 _Thank you, Alix, but I'm sorry for what is to come tonight._

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Now that my usually travelling arse is back home, I am now going to update this story! Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, and have a wonderful Black Friday, too! I hope you guys enjoyed the update, where we see Maven struggle to adjust with the revelations (and with Alix being left in the dark about it—for now). From here, the story would follow the RQ plotline, but with Alix in the middle, things could get much more interesting (or troublesome—depending on which Maven prefers).

So please review and tell me what you think.

* **readwritereview20** \- The next chapter's going to reveal a bit of Alix/Mare interaction. So Maven better hold his breath! Thank you for reading!

* **Lalola** \- Oh, yes, Mavix! I do believe that Tiberias and Elara genuinely support Maven and Alix, especially with Elara's teasing in this chapter. For Tiberias, it's all about kingdom and war business though. Now that's Mare has joined the fray, Maven would have to show a different side of himself, which would eventually turn to what he truly shows at the end of the RQ book. Alix may or may not support him, but we will see! Thank you for the review! And don't fret; your English is awesome!

* **daisyduck** \- I like the idea of them being "live happily quarreling ever after". XD Surely, the quarrelling between these two would not stop even if Mare's around. Maven's just too easy a target to be teased!

* **ShinigamiReiko** \- At some point, we're both probably like, "Mavey, your crush is showing". He needs to learn how to be discreet! ;)

* **Guest** \- Thank you for reading! I am glad you're enjoying the story. Not to worry because I have no intentions on abandoning this story! :D


	8. Lady Titanos

**Chapter 08**

 _ **"Lady Titanos"**_

* * *

Maven was long gone, but not without thanking her for allowing him to stay in her bedchambers even if it was inappropriate.

Even at the bidding of either King Tiberias or Queen Elara, Alix remained in her room, waiting for news. Good or bad, it did not matter to her. She paced back and forth like a caged animal, and she reminded herself of the white lion in the menagerie, the lone creature put on display for Silvers to watch and enjoy. Perhaps tonight it would be the same. It was always the same anyway. Every night meant a new feast and pageantry—a never-ending dance in the spotlight.

Sensing her apprehensiveness, Fiore put down her sewing and approached. "You need to be calm, Princess. Nothing would ever come to you if you're impatient."

Alix rounded towards her long-time friend. A daughter of a rich greenwarden who managed Piedmont's largest farmlands, Fiore had more privileges compared to the other Silver girls from the High Houses. She had been educated in the same Lessons as Alix, attended the same Training—which Fiore had certainly failed, much to her parents' distress. By all means, a greenwarden like Fiore was pacifist and avoided fights when she could. Alix, on the other hand—

"I feel suppressed somehow," the princess grumbled under her breath. "Maven leaves me hanging from the news, and no one ever comes around to tell me what's going on outside. Am I a caged animal, Fiore? Does Norta have the rights to keep me in my chambers all the damn time?"

Her lady-in-waiting shook her head, uncertain. "It is for your safety, Your Ladyship. We do not know what happened to that strange Red girl, and I am sure Prince Maven keeps you in the dark to protect you."

 _Protect me_. Alix rolled her eyes. "Protect me by keeping me in the dark? I _live_ in the dark, Fiore, in case you've forgotten."

"Of course you do." Fiore bowed a little, showing respect. "Forgive me, Princess."

"You do not have to apologize for everything. Remember that when we are in these chambers, we could do and speak whatever we like. Once outside, we have to remember our positions and the roles we must fulfill. I really cannot walk about in my thin dress and barefooted across the halls, can I?"

The other ladies around the table giggled, nodding their agreement as the princess gestured to her dismantled appearance from head to toe. "I had quite a shock when Prince Maven embraced you, Princess," one of them teased.

"Oh, don't start," Alix scolded, her voice both annoyed and playful.

Suddenly, there was a collection of giggles, teases, and chortles from all of them.

"He has grown very fond of you for the past days, hasn't he?"

"I heard the Queen Elara is pressuring him to marry one of the Queenstrial girls, but it seems he would choose no one but _our_ princess."

"True, true. I especially dislike that Lady Samos. She always seems to ask for a fight."

"But if she tries to challenge Her Ladyship." Four pairs of expectant eyes were on Alix, waiting for her reaction. "Lady Samos would surely lose, wouldn't she?"

Fiore clapped her hands to regulate the noise and the gossiping. She was the chief lady-in-waiting and the eldest at her nineteen years. The others were a ragtag bunch of teenage girls, with the youngest being at fourteen years. In a group full of giggling teenagers, Fiore felt the need to control their behavior both in private and public—especially in public, because the girls liked to flirt with the Sentinels while the princess was not around.

"All right, that's enough." Fiore's green eyes met every lady-in-waiting. Then her gaze went to the bronze vintage clock on the bedside table. "It is dusk and almost in time for dinner. There is a feast tonight, so we must prepare the princess more extravagantly than usual."

She spared a quick glance over her shoulder as Alix groaned and seated herself in front of the vanity. At once, the ladies stood from the table and began to fetch everything needed for tonight's much-awaited festivities.

An hour later, Secretary Macanthos knocked on the door. He spared a cautious glance to the armoured Sentinels and offered a bright smile to the princess. Arm-in-arm, he led her towards the festive ballroom.

"You look wonderful tonight, Princess Alistrine," Macanthos said, interrupting the awkward silence.

Her golden eyes regarded him dismissively, but she answered, "Thank you, Secretary. I do intend to look well tonight. Would there be dancing?"

"Not that I know of, but you could ask the king."

"No." She sighed, looking out the window to see the stars blinking in the dark skies. "I suppose not."

Macanthos bit back a sigh, worried that he had displeased her. Then again, having been a secretary to King Tiberias for years, he knew exactly how hard it was to please the royals. He did not have that much contact with the Princess of Piedmont, unless she was in Norta for a visit, which happened twice a year, to attend Cal's and Maven's birthdays. In return, the two princes would go to Piedmont to attend to Alix's, mingling with her very large, rambunctious family.

"Would Lord Lerolan be there?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Ladyship, Belicos and his House." He led her up the staircase and caught glimpse of Nortan Sentinels joining the gold-and-white knights from Piedmont. Now their company seemed deadly, with more than a dozen of guards and one wraith princess.

She noticed his discomfort around her and inclined her head a little. "Your niece did well at the Queenstrial today."

A soft smile curled on his lips. "I thank you, Your Highness. Cyrine worked hard for that performance."

They entered the ballroom together, now crowded by hundreds of Silvers from dozens of High Houses. With a respectful bow, Macanthos hurried to his other duties and Alix favored him with a little smile of her own. She lifted her chin and walked forward, her heels tapping, her gaze meeting the green eyes from the members of House Welle. She passed through a crowd of silks, their colors blue and red, and its head approached with such flawless, languid grace.

At once, Alix feigned an enthusiastic smile. "Lady Ara."

The Panther was a tall woman with piercing eyes. "I congratulate you for a well done performance at the Queenstrial this morning. Your lord grandfather stood no chance against you."

Beside her, Sonya seemingly materialized, dressed in an airy gown in House Iral's colors. "Now that you've seen all performances, I hope you could tell me which one has the chance with the prince. You know him better than all of us combined here." Dark eyes gleaming, she loved toying with people who could not resist lying.

"If you are asking for my opinion, then Tirana Osanos would make a fine queen, it seems." Alix met Sonya's eyes in a heated gaze, but the Panther only laughed.

"Ah, House Osanos outdid themselves today," Ara conceded, clapping her granddaughter on the shoulder to calm her temper. "So did Samos."

The three of them looked over to where the magnetrons were huddled together, like vipers whispering secrets. All of them wore a metallic contraption that seemed to pass for a uniform. One Samos looked up, sensing eyes on him, and his gaze fell directly on Alix's face.

"Still—" Ara interjected, calling back the attention of the two girls—"tonight is a night to be enjoyed. Have a pleasant evening, Princess Alix."

Alix tore her eyes off the Samos son and curtsied to the Panther. "Likewise, Lady Ara."

Once the Irals stalked off, Maven entered the scene. He wore another of his military uniforms and medals, pinned to his chest. His ebony hair was trimmed and swept neatly to the side, his face bright and handsome—as if he was not groaning and mulling over his disastrous problems only a few hours ago. The quiet, insecure Maven was gone, replaced by this confident young man in front of her.

He started. "You look—"

"Beautiful?" She cut him off, smirking. "I know."

"I was about to say stunning, but okay." He shrugged his shoulders and stepped closer, his head lowering down to hers. "I wanted to thank you for what happened today. It was inappropriate, and people are starting to spread the rumor; but I promise you Mother would take care of it." Then his voice was stern. "No one shall disrespect you while I am here."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Just what did you eat before coming here?"

"A little pecan pie," he answered sarcastically. But his eyes turned solemn again, as if apologizing for what was to come. His hand rested on the small of her back, reassuring her. "It will be a long night, believe me. Think you can handle yourself while I am gone?" _Because I cannot escort you anymore from now on._

"Oh, I can stand on my own little feet, thank you." She tried to catch his gaming mood, but so far, every word she said, every smirk and playful nudge on the shoulder, only made Maven feel worse. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." His eyes fell on the staircase on the other side of the room, as the High Houses hushed. With a low growl, a hand weaved through Alix's braided hair and pulled her head closer to his. "I wish you every happiness, Southern Softie."

With that, he stepped away and left her hanging, confused of his words. He stood dutifully on his mother's left, donning his stern and regal demeanor once again.

Sentinels flocked over to Alix as the crowd began to settle in front of King Tiberias and his family.

"The right of Queenstrial is always a joyous event, representing the future of our great kingdom and the bonds that keep us strongly united in the face of our enemies," Tiberias announced, eyes all on him.

Alix's attention was on entirely something else. Her eyes were darted on the staircase above. Even though there was no person standing, she could see the movements of the shadows. She almost smiled to herself, thinking that the Red girl in a purple-white dress could conceal herself in the darkness. _I live in it._

Suddenly, Queen Elara took the stage, now blathering something about a General Ethan Titanos who was killed at the war front with his wife, Nora Nolle. Alix listened half-heartedly, nodding along with the grieving few. She did not know either of the two aforementioned Silvers, and simply shrugged it off.

"This morning we saw a miracle. We watched a Red girl fall into the arena like a bolt of lightning, wielding power she should not have," the queen continued. "The king and I interviewed the girl extensively, trying to discover how she came to be. She isn't Red, but she is still a miracle. My friends, please welcome back to us Lady Mareena Titanos, daughter of Ethan Titanos. Lost and now found."

Applause rippled from the crowd, as the girl dressed in the colors of House Titanos descended from the stairs. She walked like a statue—hard, forced, and ungainly—looking more focused not to trip on the sparking purple-white monstrosity.

Alix observed, curious and interested, though somehow she sensed that this girl's transformation to a Silver girl was Maven's doing, and eventually, his problem. Her eyes found him, standing at the platform, frowning. _Is this what it is all about? A Red girl in a Silver world?_

She knew, as much as Maven did, that the girl was no Silver at all—but her lightning ability had almost killed Evangeline at the arena today.

From his post, Maven watched in equal silence. His heart pounded in his ears as the girl, Mare Barrow if he remembered correctly, walked through the crowd with a masked solemn face. She was doing her part well, but was she ready for it? _Am I ready for it?_ Even without his mother's whisper, he knew he had to go through this. If he were to be king one day, he needed to face all challenges thrown at his direction, even if it was a little lightning girl.

No matter how much he fought the urge, his eyes drifted to where Alix stood, nestled closely between her Sentinels and ladies-in-waiting. She looked thoughtful and curious, but not enough to understand what was happening, until the king explained again:

"Saved from her parents' fate, Lady Mareena was taken from the front and brought to a Red village not ten miles from here. Raised by Red parents, she worked as a Red servant. And until this morning, she believed she was one of them. Mareena was a diamond in the rough, working in my own palace, the daughter of my late friend under my nose. But no more. To atone for my ignorance, and to repay her father and her house for their great contributions to the kingdom, I would like to take this moment to announce the joining of House Calore and the resurrected House Titanos."

All over the room, the Queenstrial girls gasped and hardened.

 _This is it then_. Alix nodded to herself, hoping to accept, but found that she could not. She finally understood what Maven meant, what all those sighs and groans and strange behavior meant. _It's not Cal she's taking, but Maven._

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Maven tried to compose himself, willing the princess' face out of his mind. Elara helped with that, her whisper abilities were powerful enough to push Maven's own thoughts to the back of his head. Now, with the lights blinding him through dark lashes, he stepped forward, a little dejected as he watched the Queenstrial girls sigh in relief. _They do not want me_ , he realized. _No one has ever wanted me. It's Cal they all want—everyone's perfect prince._

One day, Maven would prove them all wrong.

"Lady Mareena."

The Titanos girl rose from her chair, meeting the prince's eyes.

"In the eyes of my royal father and the noble court, I would ask for your hand in marriage. I pledge myself to you, Mareena Titanos. Will you accept?"

Despite herself, despite wanting to watch history unfold in front of her, Alix did not have the heart to watch Maven pledge himself to a girl he barely knew for a day. She was grateful for Fiore and her other ladies, their presence giving her a sense of comfort and companionship. _I am not alone_. She closed her eyes and felt every Silver's shadow moving forward to hear Lady Mareena's answer. Again, she was grateful that her Sentinels were also close by, ready to catch her if she ever fell. _I am not alone_. Then, she wished she were deaf so that she could not hear the next dreadful words:

"I pledge myself to you, Maven Calore. I accept."

She expected a sudden burst of applause, and to her relief, none of the Silvers even clapped. Instead, Maven and his new betrothed sank back to their seats, and Cal took the spotlight. To everyone, this was the moment they were waiting for, but to Alix and Maven, it had already happened.

 _Look alive, dear_. Elara was in her head, whispering once again in her sweet voice. _You cannot afford to look pale and crestfallen tonight, there's much and more to do before we retire. Cameras are all up watching your every move, so remember to smile._

Alix blinked and dabbed a fist to her eyes. When a servant passed her by, she fished out one goblet and took a drink. At the stage, Cal was proposing to Evangeline Samos, the undoubted winner of the Queenstrial, but even that was inevitable. Everyone knew, even Belicos Lerolan, that House Samos would conquer in this generation. _Better luck in the next twenty years, girls._

King Tiberias acknowledged his sons' betrothals and welcomed the Evangeline and Mareena to his family, hoping that they would help in stopping the rebellious streak of the Scarlet Guard and put an end to the Lakelander War.

 _Well, that's another problem to keep her up at night_. Alix amused herself thinking of Maven's Red bride squirming through sessions of politics, war council meetings, economics, and even agriculture. _I am sure Evangeline would help her adjust._

Then, Tiberias ended his speech with another strong declaration of authority.

"Strength and power."

* * *

Afterwards, there was a feast: some of the High Houses brought contributions, honoring the royal family and the two new princesses. Red servants scurried and carried large golden trays, filled with roasted meats and garnished with assorted berries. They went forward to serve King Tiberias various dishes, letting the king absorbed himself with one plate after another.

As Princess of Piedmont, Alix sat with the royals at the high table; unfortunately, instead of sitting beside Cal, she was forced to sit on Evangeline's right side, while the crown prince was on Evangeline's left, successfully cutting Alix away from him. Across the table were Queen Elara, Maven, and Mareena, who remained as quiet and stiff as she tried to sip her wine.

"Oh, Alix!" the king bellowed, roaring a laugh as he gestured to her untouched plate. "You eat so sparely tonight! Is something the matter?"

Queen Elara hid her smile behind her goblet while Maven's wide eyes were on the princess.

"Is it the turkey? By my colors House Welle does not know how to prepare meats!" Tiberias laughed again. "We should have let the Vipers take charge, eh?"

Alix nodded, humoring the king. "Certainly, Your Highness."

"Do you have words to say to your new princesses?" Elara interjected. Her smile was as devious as ever.

 _They are not my princesses_. Alix thought and she knew the queen heard that clearly, judging on how her smile turned into a scowl. "Congratulations on winning the Queenstrial, Lady Evangeline, and Lady Mareena for…" she paused, uncertain how to compliment her, "falling into the arena."

A small smile crept up to Cal's lips and Evangeline did not fail to notice. "I am looking forward on Training with you tomorrow. Your shadow dragon today was exquisite," Evangeline said.

"It was, wasn't it?" Alix returned, her voice dull as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Sometimes she despised the idle talk royals and nobles had to force upon themselves just to keep the conversation flowing.

King Tiberias sensed the tension between the three girls. He decided to change the subject. "Would you show us a dance, Princess Alix?"

She smiled almost in an instant. "But of course, Your Highness. I shall dance with my ladies." Then she stood up, stepped down to the middle of the room, as Fiore and four others circled around her.

Musicians from the gallery nodded to each other and took up their music sheets.

Everyone at the high table, Maven most especially, found that Alix moved in time with the upbeat music, her hips swaying, her black skirts whirling in contrast to her ladies' golden skirts. He could see the small smile as the princess faced Fiore, intertwined their arms and circled together. If he remembered correctly, this dance was a traditional courtship dance from Piedmont. He agreed to the choice of dance, as well as his brother; Cal was smiling and nodding to the beat of the music all along. Maven was not much a dancer himself, but watching right now and seeing how fun it looked like, he rather wished to be down there than sitting between his mother and Mareena.

Then, he remembered himself, why he was stuck there, why Mareena was present. _I must stop this nonsense_. He sighed and closed his eyes, forcing himself to look away from the enchantment. He needed to focus on the problem at hand. But when he opened his eyes again, Alix was looking directly at him, her golden eyes drawing him towards her more powerfully. She moved with the outmost grace of a well-schooled dancer, the sensual movements of her body shouting that this was the Princess of Piedmont, an ornament to her father's festive court, she who had once danced for twelve nights straight for her eldest brother's birthday.

Maven bit back a sigh when the dance finally ended, leaving Alix and her ladies-in-waiting flushed and breathless, but grinning after a successful performance. In order to distract himself, he turned beside him and told Mareena, "You're doing fine."

"Obviously, I don't," Mare answered, her jaw clenched. Then, the prince snatched the goblet from her hand, and she scowled. "I liked that drink."

They both knew that there was not much to talk about, so Maven whispered, "I'm sorry about earlier today, Mareena. It's just—usually younger princes get to choose. One of the few perks of not being the heir."

He froze, catching himself opening up to this stranger. He leaned back to his chair and sighed.

"Oh, I didn't know that." Her voice almost sounded apologetic. "Is she here? The girl you would have chosen?"

His blue eyes were suddenly back in the dance floor, watching Silvers talk to each other, raising glasses of wine. It was not hard to find her: she wore her golden tiara on top of her loosely braided silver hair, her black gown surely made from the finest Piedmont silk. House Lerolan surrounded her, the close friends of House Caralis, and the prince smiled to himself at the sight of Hunter and Trey, Belicos Lerolan's little boys, clutching Alix's skirts.

Then his smile died down and he said, "No, I didn't have anyone in mind. But it was nice to have the option of a choice, you know?"

Mare didn't have to be a genius to figure out. If it was obvious to her, then it must be more obvious to the queen and Cal. She glanced at Maven as the Piedmont princess returned to the high table.

"Well done, Alistrine dear," Queen Elara cooed, softly clapping. "Well done as ever."

"I can see why your father keeps you in his court," the king added. "You are a marvel."

Alix bowed before taking her seat. "Thank you, Your Highnesses," she said. Though, deep in her mind, she thought, _I would rather be in the shadows than forever smiling in the limelight_.

Towards the end of the feast, there was a toast. The head of House Samos and Evangeline's father, Volo, proudly raised his goblet for his daughter, the future Queen of Norta.

Even though he was dressed in a simple black robe, Alix could tell that this man commanded his land and people in an iron grip. And so did his son. Evangeline's brother stood a head taller than most lords, his stark silver hair and fierce dark eyes bearing the usual Samos look. He also raised his glass for his sister, though his eyes clearly dared to challenge his claim. When his gaze landed on the princess, Alix recognized him as the Samos who stared at her while she talked with Lady Ara and Sonya Iral earlier this evening.

His gaze was short-lived. He returned to his seat and drank from his glass, but not before glancing one more time at her.

When all salutes died down, King Tiberias and Queen Elara rose from their seats, followed by their sons and their betrotheds, then Alix. She was first to step down from the platform, however, in order to give a respectful bow as the Nortan royals passed her. While Cal smiled at Alix, Evangeline's brows were furrowed and the metal contraption around her wrist shifted into a needle, threateningly.

"See you tomorrow at Training, Alix," Evangeline said, mimicking the sweet, cooing voice of the queen.

"You will lose, Lady Samos." Golden eyes darkened with conviction. "Have a pleasant evening."

Before Evangeline could spit something venomous, Cal dragged her away, his grip on her hand tighter than necessary.

Alix snorted as she watched their pair walked towards the rear door. She felt shadows closing in on her and turned around to see Maven and Mareena approach. With her current temper of the turn of events, she immediately turned away before Maven could say something. Her ladies-in-waiting formed a line behind her, and then her Sentinels followed closely behind.

"What has gotten into her?" Mare whispered in his ear.

The prince shook his head in defeat. "At this point? I have no idea."

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : Hello, hello, my loves! I had quite a busy schedule, so forgive me for the late update. I want to take this time to wish everyone to have a very merry Christmas and blessed New Year! Now that the year's coming to and end, it means we're getting closer to the release of King's Cage! Can't wait to read more about our beloved little king, Maven.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. This was one of the most enjoyable chapters to write. The growing tension between Mare and Alix would definitely be a real one! Next chapter's going to feature some brotherly love between Cal and Maven, and also a bit more on Cal and Alix's relationship.

* **LovecraftXx** \- Mavix or Maren (is this pairing even a thing?) is going to be a highlight in the upcoming chapters. And Queen Elara actually has a game plan to make things more troublesome. ;)

* **Lalola** \- Thank you very much for leaving reviews! It really gives me insight on how to develop the story based on your opinion, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you! I am glad you think the characterizations of the book characters are on-point in this story; both Maven and Elara are my favorites to write, to be honest. Speaking of the she-devil, you're right that Elara doesn't really have a good opinion about Alix. I think Elara only gives Alix good credits because she's a princess of Norta's closest ally. Other than that, Elara wouldn't care much. :)


	9. Royals of the Blood

**Chapter 09**

 _ **Royals of the Blood**_

* * *

It happened so long ago, yet he could perfectly remember how it all started, as if it was only yesterday.

King Umberto had invited his companion in hunting, a rival in sporting games, a partner in drinking and sometimes gambling—King Tiberias of House Calore from Norta—to attend his only daughter's seventh birthday, the first birthday invitation in the last ten years. Although the winter was harsher than usual that year, King Tiberias happily accepted, hurrying along to Torino, Piedmont's capital city, with his new wife and young sons in tow.

Maven had only been seven when he first beheld Piedmont with his own eyes, and for a seven-year-old prince, what he saw was a place so different from Norta. He remembered approaching the palace, the thousands of Silver lords and ladies welcoming them, the wink of the golden chandeliers as he and his family entered the ballroom. King Umberto, from his point of view, looked like a king who dressed to impress, being adorned with a bejeweled golden crown and luxurious ermine coats. The queen, Margaux of House Novara, was a slim young woman with light brown hair and solemn grey eyes.

As his father had taught him, Maven bowed dutifully to the Piedmont royals, then proceeded to regard the four princes lined behind their parents. Each prince was two years older than the other was, placing the eldest prince six years older than Cal was.

" _Meet the princess, Cal_ ," their father had whispered, gently pushing him towards the princess. Cal had blinked at the sight of her—such a pale little girl with the big, round golden eyes of House Caralis, a small tiara perched on her silver head.

" _Happy birthday, Princess Alistrine. I am Tiberias of House Calore, but you may call me Cal_." He smiled and bowed to her, and he could see the obvious delight in this young girl as she returned his bow with a graceful curtsy of her own.

When Cal stepped back, he watched as his father's wife, Elara of House Merandus, coax her son to do the same as his half-brother. Maven was at the same age as the princess; too shy to speak however, always hiding behind his mother's skirts; but when Cal smiled in reassurance, Maven found his courage to step forward.

" _I am Maven of House Calore, and I wish you a wonderful birthday, Princess Alistrine."_

* * *

Everyone bowed at the sight of the crown prince trekking the hallways. Last night went well—or so he wanted to believe it did. Thoughts of Mare in his Silver world irked him, more so the notion of his younger brother marrying her for theatrics. Cal wondered which one of them slept uneasily last night: Maven, Mare, or himself?

Sighing, the prince entered the spacious bedchambers of his brother. It was larger than the stage in Sunspear Theater, with navy blue wallpapers and iron sconces to hold the golden lamps. Paintings dominated the walls, images of young Prince Tiberias and Maven. On another painting, there was Queen Elara and a five-year-old Maven, wide-eyed, pale, and clutching his mother's hand for comfort. At the center of the room, a king-sized bed loomed, complete with heavy blue draperies and white pillows and blankets. White carpet, wooden wardrobes, bookshelves, tables filled with paper and books—it all defined how Maven was a royal, and the half of who he was, a Merandus.

Maven himself stood, arms outstretched, in front of a full-length mirror, as servants scuttled here and there to take his measurements.

"Brother," Maven called out. He turned around, much to the annoyance of the tailors, and approached him. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Good morning," Cal greeted, hands behind his back. "You seem to be in a pleasant mood."

"Not too pleasant." With a dismissive wave of his hand, the prince sent the tailors out, leaving the two princes to themselves. Maven fetched a pitcher and poured his brother a glass of water. "Here, you seemed tensed. Is it about last night?"

"Quite." Cal finished his drink quickly and fell quiet. "I hope we're doing the right thing."

"Which one? You marrying Evangeline, me marrying someone I barely know, or this someone we barely know suddenly becoming a princess overnight?"

Cal chuckled, surprised how his brother could actually amuse him at a time like this. "All of the above, though I am more concerned about Mare."

"Mare? That's her name?"

Red-gold eyes hardened. "Yes."

Maven smirked. "I thought it was Mareena."

Blinking, Cal realized that he was caught off-guard. He laughed it off. "You're right. Her name is Mareena."

"You worry too much about her, Brother. Relax. Mother has everything under control. No one will prompt their way into our little charade; she even has our Merandus relatives under her thumb. No one will know, not even the Panther, I promise."

Cal couldn't decide whether the notion of Queen Elara protecting Mare was reassuring. By all means, the queen herself was a strong force to be reckoned, and no one would ever dare to cross her unless they wanted to earn her wrath. And no Silver in their right mind would do that. So he guessed Maven was right about trusting their secret with the queen.

"We are to join today's Training with the Queenstrial girls, right?" Maven asked.

"Oh yes. It has been decided yesterday. Rane Arven will be present again."

"And Mare?"

"Scheduled for Lessons for the whole day."

"Shame. I would have liked to see her ability again."

Cal smiled and went for the door. "She would join us, eventually. For now, it will be Alix with us."

The younger prince flinched. "Alix in Training? What for?"

"Are you telling me we should leave her on the edge of snapping?" Cal smirked. "Alix would have my head on a platter by sundown." With that, he left the room and shut the door behind him.

Once he was sure that Cal was gone, Maven slumped on his bed, groaning. One of the perks for having a powerful whisper as a mother was that she could clear your mind whenever you needed it, especially after the turn of events yesterday at the Queenstrial. After he escorted that vile Evangeline to her room, he retreated to his own but kept awake for the majority of the night. If Queen Elara had not checked upon him one last time, she wouldn't have pushed his problems to the back of his mind to give him an easy sleep.

Maven shivered as he remembered comforting his brother about this whole ordeal, yet now he could not even think straight. Mare turned Mareena. A Red in a Silver world. A Samos chosen to be future queen of Norta. Everything was in chaos. This was not what he wanted for his perfect kingdom, no. Not the soldier and war-driven Cal for a king and an ambitious magnetron for a queen.

 _No, no, no._

"Something troubling you, dear?"

He did not need to lift his head to know. He could already tell by her sweet voice and tapping heels. "Good morning, Mother," he murmured.

"I heard Cal has just been here?" She stood in front of him, dressed in a fine blue-and-white gown made from Piedmont cotton. Her hair was braided and pulled into a beautiful bun.

"Yes. So what?"

"Oh, nothing," Elara singsonged, then took the seat beside him. Suddenly, her playful smile was gone, replaced by her cold eyes and sharp whisper. "Maven, a king does not let his stress show. You are born to be King of Norta, raised to rule this kingdom that your father made a laughing stock during his reign, plunged us into terrible years of war and ruin. Cal cannot change what Norta has become, but you can. You can bring peace. What you need is to be strong—physically, emotionally, and mentally—and find resourceful allies."

Maven considered her words for a moment and looked into her eyes. "This is your entire fault."

"Mine?" She dared to challenge him, her voice thick with anger. "It is not my fault that peasant fell into the arena and blasted lightning to Evangeline. Queenstrial would have gone far easier if she didn't appear. Your brother choosing Evangeline was expected, but your smart father had something else in mind."

He scoffed and turned away from her, approaching a mirror instead. He observed his pale blue eyes and dismantled hair. _Alix cannot see me like this_ , he thought. _She would laugh at my face._

"Your father…" the queen drawled, catching his attention once more, "has been in negotiations with the Piedmont ambassador in regards to your betrothal to a certain someone."

At once, the prince turned back to her with bewildered eyes. "Betrothal? To Alix?"

"It finally occurred to your father that we need Piedmont for its agricultural resources."

Ever the clever one, Maven weighed the situation again. "Yes, of course it would work. Norta has been allies with Piedmont since the olden times. We need Piedmont for its vast and fertile land, its agricultural resources and armies. No one else could muster hundred thousands of Reds than them. Not even Lakelands could do that. What Piedmont lacks in electricity, Norta provides; what Norta lacks in armies and wraiths, Piedmont has them."

"And not for a cheap price," Elara pointed out. "A wraith princess is a commodity that is hard to come by, even the Prairie and Tiraxes are bidding for the highest price."

Maven's arms came alive with fire as he threw a fireball towards his mother, barely missing her cheek. His eyes were hard and angry. " _Never_ call her a commodity."

She only shrugged. "Still, we need to worry more about that peasant girl and worry less about Alistrine. I have something for her tomorrow."

"It better not harm her."

"With you and Cal around?" She smiled her vicious smile. "Of course not."

The arena was flocked by the same Queenstrial girls from yesterday, only most of them seemed irritated to be present in the first place. The Parting Ball was still a month away, meaning that none of the girls could leave until the special event was over. Evangeline entered with her lackeys, Sonya and Elane, all three of them walking in stride with one another. Samos was technically feeling good, knowing that she won the Queenstrial over all these aspiring girls.

One by one, the girls moved away from Evangeline's group as it approached.

"Everyone seems to have accepted defeat." Elane giggled, her eyes twinkling.

"But of course," Sonya agreed, flipping her ebony hair over her smooth shoulder. "None of them stood a chance anyway. All they could do now is bow to the new Royal Highness."

Evangeline liked hearing that title. _Her Royal Highness_. Soon, the whole of Norta would acknowledge that the talented Samos daughter won the Queenstrial. Not long after, the world would know that she had all the rights to be queen.

"Speaking of Her Royal Highness," Elane whispered, "here comes Piedmont's."

Alix arrived with only two of her Sentinels flanking her both sides. She wore the usual black leather training outfit, striped twice on the shoulder with gold-and-silver. Her hair was tied into a high ponytail. Almost at once, the girls acknowledged her presence like never before, bowing and murmuring their greetings to her. In return, with a smug look on her face, the princess smiled and nodded, before proceeding to approach Evangeline's group.

"Where are your other Sentinels, Alix?" Evangeline asked, one perfect eyebrow raised.

"Out in the fields, occupying themselves with business of their own," Alix answered. She noticed the flash of white teeth behind Samos's feral smile.

"I hope those two you have are silence and skin healer," Sonya chimed in. "You will certainly need them for today's match."

Holding on to the last strand of patience she had, Alix turned to the Iral girl and snapped, "Did you see that I was talking to Samos, Lady Iral? Did your parents, or grandmother for that matter, even teach you never to interrupt a conversation in which you are not part of? I expected better manners for a noblewoman from a well-known family, and more so from a Silver lady who once aspired to become Prince Tiberias's bride. I would rather have you not disrespecting me, Lady Iral."

With her eyes wide and mouth slightly gaping, Sonya turned her heels and joined Elane, who had already backed away when the princess started lecturing.

Alix returned her attention to Evangeline. "Whatever happened last night does not change anything, Lady Samos. Even if you are Cal's chosen bride, you still have no drop of royal blood in you, so do not talk to me as if we are equals."

"How dare you!" Evangeline raised her fist and the needle from her black spiky belt moved into the air. The needle formed into a black knife, so fast that Alix could barely see, and pressed threateningly on her neck. "I just had enough of your arrogance, you little—"

"Evangeline!" Someone's voice stopped her.

Cal immediately swept Alix aside, wrapping his arms protectively around her smaller form, with his red-gold eyes blazing anger at his betrothed. He raised his voice at her, uncaring if people watched them. "What do you think you're doing? Did you know that threatening a Princess of the Blood is treasonous, that even someone of your ranking could be fatal?!"

People began to gather around them, watching, judging. Evangeline was painfully aware of the compromising position she put herself in: not threatening Alix, but of sparking the prince's wrath. Rane Arven stood at the sidelines and Evangeline's black knife fell limp on the floor. Sentinels arrived, Norta and Piedmont alike, prepared to break the situation. Then there was Maven, arriving too late, blue eyes wide with confusion at the sight of his brother embracing the Piedmont princess like his very life depended on it.

"You are uncontrollable in your outbursts, at the very first day of becoming princess!" Cal continued shouting.

Alix remained trapped in Cal's arms, her head resting lightly against his heaving chest. Though she did not feel in any way uncomfortable being close with him, she was uncomfortable with so many people watching them.

"Sorry." Evangeline finally swallowed her pride. She looked straight into Cal's eyes. "Forgive me, my prince."

But the prince was not satisfied. "That would not—"

"Cal," Alix murmured, gently pushing herself away from Cal's body. As the prince looked down, she smiled and cupped his cheek. He had always been the protective one; he always felt the need to protect and make sure everyone was doing well. She decided she like that trait in Cal, whom people only saw as the perfect prince and one day, the perfect king. But he was a human being as well, capable of kindness and sincerity. He reminded Alix of her older brothers. Her thumb brushed against the apex of his cheek, soothingly, genuinely.

"I am fine. No one is harmed."

The crown prince nodded and released her, though one hand was still pressed against the small of her back. "Are you sure? You're not hurt? I shall call Sentinel Skonos for you."

"No, no." She appreciated his concern. One day, the girl who would capture Cal's heart would be, perhaps, one of the luckiest girls in the kingdom. "Not one magnetron could hurt this wraith."

She could always make him smile—Alix, and Maven, too. Cal nodded again. "If you insist."

Rane Arven stepped forward, breaking the tension. He needed not to say a single word to make the teens disperse into the arena, pretending as if nothing happened. Evangeline was the last one to leave, the remnants of her pride still present, meeting Alix's golden eyes in a heated glare. At length, she joined Sonya and Elane, who remained dismissive about the argument. Before the Sentinels could assess the princess, Maven grabbed Alix's shoulders and forced her to face him.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?"

Alix rolled her eyes. "Your beloved brother already asked me that twice. Please don't ask for the fourth time."

"I am serious!"

She slapped his hands off her. "I am not hurt, Maven. I would not let Evangeline hurt me that easily. It would tarnish my reputation as the wraith princess, of course."

Maven fidgeted, fighting the urge to hold her in his arms like Cal did. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Of course. You are better than her."

"Yes. Now let's proceed to Training."

The tension wore on as the first phase of Training began. Arven instructed them to do fifty laps, while he himself remained under the shade, kept company by his Provos assistant. Cal and Maven led the group, outrunning each other every once in a while, though both only seemed to enjoy themselves. Sonya came next, agile and light on her feet. Cyrine Macanthos ran beside Tirana Osanos. A few paces behind them were Alix and Evangeline, racing neck and neck like rivals to some invisible crown. At the end of the laps, Cal emerged victorious—as if that was a surprise.

Next was an accuracy training. Teens were encouraged to use their abilities like projectiles to aim and shoot at the metallic disks Theo Provos was throwing in the air. Cal and Maven took turns shooting fireballs out of their hands, destroying the metallic disks with deadly accuracy. Evangeline was smiling throughout the whole ordeal, throwing daggers against the disks, resulting in loud clangs in the field. Sonya and Elane could do nothing but dodge, since their abilities were more physical than the others were. Alix, however, was also on the defensive: wraiths could only control shadows and darkness, therefore the shadows they could only control must be attached into something solid from where the shadows came from. In her part, she enveloped herself with enormous whips made from her own shadow, deflecting each disk that flew her way.

For the final part of today's Training, Arven decided that it should be a match, well-knowing that it was everyone's favorite part. Heron Welle, the bird-faced greenwarden that Alix and Maven always bullied, fought against Galina Eagrie, an eye. In the end, Galina was the victor, using her precognition ability to outwit Heron. The next fight was between Sonya Iral and Cyrine Macanthos, matching speed and agility against strength and determination. Despite being daughter to the famous Colonel Macanthos, Cyrine yielded to Sonya's expertise, having been trained by her grandmother the Panther herself.

Instructor Arven decided to pour oil into the fire for the last battle.

"Princess Alistrine. Lady Samos. If you two would please."

Alix looked up from Cal's right side, as the prince remained by her side ever since Training began. Her eyes drifted to where Samos was and saw the satisfied gleam in her dark eyes. "Of course, Lord Arven," she agreed, feigning sweetness in her voice.

Maven clutched her wrist. "Not today, Alix."

"Come now," she crooned, feeling Cal's shadow step closer, ready to back his brother up. "It is only for entertainment."

"Entertainment with Evangeline Samos will get you killed!"

Mustering her puppy eyes, Alix tugged at Cal's sleeves, asking for his permission. "Please, Tiberias?"

Despite himself, Cal smiled. "I have a better idea that would not hurt you much."

Maven narrowed his eyes at his brother. "What idea?"

Cal turned to Arven and announced in a loud voice, "I challenge Alix Caralis."

The excitement in Evangeline's eyes died in an instant. The girls exchanged glances to one another; even Theo Provos held his breath at the sudden announcement.

Yet Arven was smiling all along. "If Her Royal Highness agrees."

Alix welcomed Cal as a sparring partner than Evangeline. "It would be my honor."

Hand-in-hand, like dancers entering a dance floor, Cal led Alix towards the center of the arena. Both of them stood on either side, facing each other, waiting for an indication for the fight to begin. Maven could not decide whom to cheer on: his experienced brother or the deceitful princess. The Sentinels inched forward, all eager to get front row seats. With a curt nod from Arven, the battle began.

Cal began with a stream of flames produced by his flame-maker bracelet. It shot towards Alix, which she dodged by stepping neatly to the side. Cal punched the air, his movement followed by another flamethrower. Again, the princess only stepped aside. Anticipating that relaxed movement from her, Cal dashed towards her, his footsteps heavy. He directed a strong punch to her cheek, which Alix once again deflected by grabbing his wrist. As she did so, however, Cal's hand became alive with flames. She cringed in pain and jumped away as Cal attempted another punch with his free hand. With a small distance between them, Alix began to make the shadows dance.

Shadows from every teen in the arena moved into Alix's will, enveloping her in a shadowy dome. Cal bent his knees and raised a blazing firewall. He pushed it forward until it pressed against the protective dome. He knew Alix was setting herself in his trap, and if he continued any further, she would be burned into a crisp. But Cal also knew that the princess was not easily defeated.

From the back of the dome, another large whip emerged and passed through the firewall. For a moment there, the solid shadow disintegrated the flames, and Alix took Cal's momentary distraction to send dozens of shadowy tentacles to assault him. Cal moved away, throwing fireballs at each tentacle, observing that the shadows disintegrated with his flames. After the last tentacle, Cal searched for Alix in the arena, but found her nowhere.

"Up! Up there!" the audience was shouting, all of them at the edge of their seats.

Cal looked up and saw Alix jumping from the sidewall. He put his arms in front of his face and braced himself for the impact, not outrunning it, but the impact never came. He removed his arms and blinked, and Alix landed on his side, graceful as a cat, and kicked his legs. He fell on the floor as clawed hands made from shadows made a grab for him. He could feel the sharpness of the nails, clawing at his skin and tearing his clothes. He struggled to get the claws off him, until he could see nothing but a thin sliver of sunlight as they covered his face and eyes. In one last attempt of defiance, Cal surrounded his whole body in flames and forced himself into his feet.

"Well done," Alix chirped, one hand on her waist. "Not everybody gets away with that. Most of them just lets the darkness sink in and cries like a baby afterwards."

"I am not a baby, am I?" Cal smiled.

"Not in the slightest, my prince." She sent dozens more tentacles toward him, which he burned with his flames.

Then, while he was distracted, she delivered a strong roundhouse kick to his belly. Cal took hold of her pant and pulled her down along with him. Both fell in an awkward struggle between flames and shadow, until Cal finally poured his strength to straddle the squirming princess and pin her hands above her head. Only then did Alix stopped squirming.

"Yield?" Cal grinned.

"Not yet." She tried to kick him off, but the prince was larger, heavier, and by all means, stronger than she was.

Cal laughed at her futile attempt. "Yield, Alix?"

"That's enough," Maven interrupted. He stepped forward until he stood beside his brother, waiting for him to release the princess.

It may have only been her, but Alix felt the unnatural heat coming from Maven's body. She had never felt that kind of heat during her intense battle with Cal, not even when her hand touched Cal's flaming wrist. This heat radiated with something else, something that was akin to anger.

"We're done, aren't we, Alix?" Cal finally got off her, and helped her onto her feet. "It was a good fight. A draw for both of us."

"I suppose." She looked at Cal and then Maven, until the crown prince clapped his brother on the shoulder and walked away. Before she could speak, Maven also turned his heels and was off, leaving her quite confused with these two brothers. Cal was in his usual protective self, probably more playful than normal, but Maven? He was acting strange.

Instructor Arven nodded his approval of the fight. "That concludes our Training for today. See you all tomorrow."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Happy New Year, everyone! Thank you for supporting this story, and with that, I present you this chapter so early in the year. I really wanted to shed some light about Alix and Cal's relationship, because I have been focusing and building up Maven's character for a while now. In here, we get to see how Cal and Alix see each other, because that would probably be an important factor once hell breaks lose in later chapters.

 _Prince_ or _Princess of the Blood_ refers to someone descended from royalty, as if Cal and Alix's case.

* **Gabby0529** \- Now that we've seen Alix being jelly, Maven needs the spotlight to himself now! XD

* **ShinigamiReiko** \- Ooh, I agree. There are too many books out there pitting girls without explaining exactly why. *cough*Aveyard*cough* Really though, she just made Evangeline too much of a bitch since the beginning. I actually like Evangeline, if only we could get a better glimpse of her character.

* **LovecraftXx** \- So there's Calix now? Oh, boy! There would be too many ships in this story then! LOL

* **Ivonism** \- There's one for Calix, and you're up for Mavix! I need to decide which side I am on ;)

* **Guest** \- Thank you! Glad you're enjoying this. Happy New Year to you, too!


	10. Negotiations

**Chapter 10**

 _ **Negotiations**_

* * *

Mare felt the electricity surging within her veins. It was fast-paced, giddy, the type of what girls usually felt when going out with their crushes. But Mare was hardly going out with a crush, even if she clung to the arm of the crown prince as they made their way across the residence halls. She struggled to keep up with his steps, occasionally tripping on her high heels.

Cal whirled around to give her a concerned look. "Perhaps we should get you out of those clothes," he whispered to himself.

"Oh, you just thought of that now?" She crossed her arms, scoffing. "It just occurred to you that maybe my family would flip out if they see their pickpocket of a daughter in a purple gown?"

"Don't worry. I have it covered. Come." He grabbed her wrist and directed her to another hallway, this one farther up in the residence halls. It was considerably darker, too, Mare noticed.

"Where are we going?"

"Just wait." His eyes caught the silver moonlight, glinting his red-gold eyes in a soft glow. He seemed to be alert of something that might emerged from the dark hallway, but Mare was not so sure.

Suddenly, from the other end of the corridor, a voice called out, "How now, Prince Tiberias? Sneaking out in the middle of the night?"

Mare stopped short, her breath held tightly. The voice came in a soft whisper, and despite the darkness, she could almost _see_ the curling mischievous smile from the other person. She kept her eyes looking until a dark figure stepped into the light, her long silver hair touching her waist, golden eyes regarding them with earnest curiosity. The girl wore a black dress with loose long sleeves that contrasted her pale complexion.

"Alix," Cal breathed as he nodded.

 _It's the princess_ , Mare realized. _It's the wraith princess Lucas has been mentioning about_. Then she remembered last night during the end of the Queenstrial; there was a girl who danced and had Maven's attention for the whole night. _So it is her_.

"You two seem lost?" Alix remarked, taking another step closer. She tilted her head to the side, like a curious silver cat. "Or you two would rather elope in the middle of the night?"

"What? N-No!" Cal sputtered, for once at loss for words.

The princess laughed as she approached and touched Cal's arm. She finally turned to look at Mare, whom she observed from the purple-and-white dress to her brown hair and eyes. Something flickered in the princess' golden eyes as she said, "Ah, Lady Titanos."

"You know that's not my name," Mare said defiantly.

"But it suits you," Alix pursued. "A little of a storm and oblivion in you as you fell on that lightning shield. It was a good stunt, I shall give you that; though I would recommend you to blast that lightning of yours next time to Evangeline Samos's face."

The two girls shared a smile, something that Cal never expected. "Enough of that, Alix," he admonished softly. "Nothing good will happen of you keep on fighting with her."

"She started it."

"Well, Evangeline _is_ kind of a jerk," Mare chimed in.

"Enough," Cal said again, his voice louder this time. He tapped Alix's shoulder and looked deeply into her eyes. "I need your help. Do you have anything that could pass for a female servant's uniform? Anything at all?"

Alix blinked. "I don't suppose you are now into cross-dressing, Tiberias. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. With us."

"No!" He sputtered again, while Mare tried not to smile at the ensuing mischief before her. She would never have imagined this stuck-up prince to be capable of handling jokes. "Mare needs something to change with."

"Well," the princess drawled, once again assessing Mare from head to toe, "I have several ladies-in-waiting in these halls. Perhaps one of their uniforms could fit you nicely." She turned her heels and beckoned them to follow her.

Mare glanced cautiously at the black cameras whirring. "They're watching us."

"Oh, they are, aren't they?" Alix sighed. "I insisted that no cameras should be here while I am around. Queen Elara doesn't really like keeping her side of the bargain."

With just one flick of a wrist, Mare noticed that the already dark hallways gradually turned darker. She could barely see her hand in front of her. Her grip on Cal's shirt tightened, willing herself not to trip. _If I do, I won't be able to see myself fall_. She now understood why Lucas seemingly admired the princess, or rather, her abilities. The shadow dragon from yesterday was still such a fresh memory in her mind, a spectacle that had every Red servant in the Spiral Gardens gasping in awe.

"Where are your Sentinels?" Cal asked.

"I sent them away," Alix answered as she opened the door to her bedchambers. "They're around here somewhere, guarding, watching, as long as I do not feel their presence. It is a nuisance." She left them standing at the doorway while she rummaged through Fiore's closet.

"You can never be too careful. Sentinels are here for a reason."

"Ah, now you sound just like your brother. Speaking of the little devil, does Maven know you're doing this?" Alix snatched one of Fiore's many plain-looking dresses, a light brown dress with a slash of white, and threw it towards Mare's direction.

Mare murmured her little thanks. She dreaded the thought of undressing her monster gown. "Is there a place where I can change?"

"Hold on." Again, the princess crossed the room, opened the door to another room that led to her ladies-in-waiting, and clapped her hands. She spared them a few words before the servants scuttled around preparing for what was needed.

Cal noticed the confused look on Mare's face. He bent his head to whisper in her ear, "She'll take care of everything. You'll see."

The ladies-in-waiting arrived, led by the sleepy Fiore, and took Mare's hands. They directed her towards another room where they could remove the gown properly and dress her with the simple servant's uniform. Cal crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, and was later joined by the smiling princess.

"She seems like an interesting person," Alix said. "For a Red, that is."

"You have no qualms about her being a Red?"

"Of course I have. First and foremost, she has no rights to take up the rank of a Princess of Norta. She can learn how to speak and act, dance probably, but there is something about nobility that she could not learn."

"Give her a chance."

"Secondly, do you think Maven whole-heartedly agrees?"

Cal was taken aback by her question. He looked down at her and met her eyes. "Mavey? I don't think so. But what can we do? Everybody saw what happened yesterday. We cannot simply disregard the incident. We will keep her around until we have figured out why a Red could have Silver abilities."

"What do you think of her?"

"The queen looked into her records. It is certain that her parents are both Reds."

"What about brothers? Sisters?"

"Her three brothers are all at the war front. One younger sister, also a Red."

"Which makes her all the more interesting." Alix straightened herself as Mare and the servants emerged from the dressing room. "But that doesn't make her any more special."

The prince chuckled. "Nobody could ever outshine you."

She looked touched for a moment and attempted to nudge Cal with her shoulder. But Cal noticed Mare coming towards them and he moved forward, causing Alix to hit nothing but thin air and fall unceremoniously on the ground, and with an undignified yelp.

Cal tried his best not to laugh, but failed miserably. "Are you all right?"

From her kneeling position on the ground, Alix glared up at him and started nagging at him. "You were supposed to _catch_ me, Tiberias!"

"I'm sorry!" The prince continued to laugh as he helped the princess back to her feet. He pretended to dust off her black dress and check at her face. "There, better?"

Alix groaned. "Much better."

Mare cleared her throat, standing awkwardly in Fiore's plain uniform. "I'm ready to go," she said.

Cal opened the door and let themselves out of the room. "I owe you for everything tonight, Alix, but I need one more favor from you."

The princess scoffed. "You're asking too much from me, Tiberias."

"Could you darken all the hallways from here to the first floor, one that leads to the garage?"

"I might, but what for?"

"We can't let the queen know of this," Mare interrupted, more than ready to leave the palace and finally see her parents.

"Very well. All for my favorite prince." Alix lifted her right hand and the shadows moved at her will. Outside, the corridors turned darker until not one sliver of moonlight could penetrate the windows. "Will this do, my lord?"

"More than enough. Thank you." Cal smiled and kissed her forehead, as loving as a brother. "Good night, Alix."

"Be careful," the princess called out as the two dashed off. "And come back before morning! Seriously, somebody has to fix the damned light in this place."

* * *

" _We missed you at breakfast yesterday, Princess Alistrine. You are required to join us today at the Glass Terrace. This is not negotiable._

 _Her Royal Highness of Norta, Queen Elara."_

Alix's eyebrow twitched as she read the contents of the queen's terse letter. She did not expect to wake up from a good slumber only to be greeted by this. Yesterday's breakfast was probably a terrible one, with Evangeline and Mare—oh, Mareena—sharing the table with the vicious queen. She thought by now no one would mind her absence, but apparently, the queen liked setting up the tension between the girls.

For today, she decided to wear the colors of her house: a golden turtleneck gown made from the famous Piedmont silk, and white lace for gloves. She kept her hair in a messy bun, with few locks falling from her forehead and the sides of her face.

"Shall I announce your arrival, Princess?"

"No need, Sentinel Novara." She smiled up at her cousin, a firma from Piedmont. "Surely by now the queen and the prince's betrotheds already know who I am."

The knight nodded and stepped back. "As you wish."

She walked up to them with her chin lifted proudly, as she found Evangeline and Mareena already at the table. "Good morning, Lady Samos, Lady Titanos. You look radiant, Lady Titanos. Did something good happen last night?"

A smile lit up Mare's face as the princess took the seat on her right. "It was wonderful."

Evangeline tapped her long nails on the table. She wore a black dress with a metallic contraption of the sort around her torso, looking like an armor. "Just after two days and you two are already close to each other? Unbelievable."

"It is easy to make acquaintances when your attitude is not so deplorable, Lady Samos."

A knife rose into the air, its blade pointing at Alix's eye. "Are you challenging me, Caralis?"

"Do you want to settle this later in Training? If so, I hope Prince Tiberias is not around, for surely he would speak against such a match. He would not want his betrothed to lose against a visiting princess, would he?"

Mare's throat was dry at their exchange. She hated Evangeline to the very core, for being rude, arrogant, and overall acting like a conceited person; but here was someone who could dare Evangeline in a challenge, who could meet that glare without options of backing down. If Alix could openly insult Evangeline, then so could Mare, and she actually found the notion satisfying. This Samos girl really needed an elbow to her face.

Finally, the queen arrived with her Sentinels behind her.

The three girls rose from their seats and bowed, then copied the queen as she sank down to her cushioned chair.

Elara seemed to be in a good mood, too, judging at her sweet smile. "How wonderful for you to join us, Princess Alistrine."

 _You forced me in case you've forgotten_ , Alix thought and the queen's smile widened.

"I have an announcement for you." Elara gestured for someone to come forward, and all three girls craned their necks to see someone emerge from the flock of Sentinels.

The young man had his silver hair cut neatly, dark eyes looking intensely at the queen, and his black-and-silver military uniform was more extravagant than the others were. It somehow matched Evangeline's metal armor, only this young man's uniform had more scales and spikes around the waist. He bowed once, his hand pressed lightly on his chest, and when he came up from his bow, Evangeline could not contain her joy.

"Brother!" She pushed herself off the table to embrace him.

"How are you, dear sister?" He returned the gesture, smiling as he kissed her hair.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be leading the officers-in-training, right?"

"It seems Her Royal Highness has another thing in mind."

Elara smiled and turned to Alix. "I understand that you, as a visiting princess, are Norta's most special guest. However, as it turns out after the Queenstrial, I could have neither Tiberias nor Maven escorting you anymore, as they have betrotheds of their own to take care of. Thus the king and I have decided to let Lord Samos, Commander of Archeon's officers, to escort you for the time being."

Alix just stared at the queen. _Wait, Evangeline has a brother?_

 _Yes, now stand up and meet him_ , Elara whispered to her mind.

Begrudgingly, Alix stood up and waited for this Samos thing to introduce himself properly to her.

"I am Ptolemus Samos, Your Royal Highness, heir to House Samos and brother to the future queen." He bowed respectfully. "It is my greatest honor to escort you while you're here."

 _Oh good. Somebody taught him well what to say._

 _You have to thank him and tell him you're also grateful_ , Elara chimed in.

"The honor is mine as well, uh, Lord Ptolemus." Alix curtsied, her movements ever so smooth. When she came up from her curtsy, she found him looking at her.

Unfortunately, Evangeline was none too pleased, but at least the princess would be out of her way now that somebody would keep her company.

"Shall we have breakfast now?" Elara clapped her hands to allow the Red servants distribute the food. Ptolemus and the Sentinels fell back into the shade and waited as the girls dined together, quiet and uncomfortable at the turn of events.

The queen glanced at Alix and hid her smile behind her goblet. _You seem paler, dear. You do not find Ptolemus handsome?_

Alix almost choked from her drink. _With all due respect, Your Highness, I have a dozen Sentinels with me. I do not need another one to babysit me._

 _Don't worry. I am sure Lord Ptolemus would make your time worth it._

The princess looked over her shoulder and saw Ptolemus standing obediently at the front of the Sentinels, appearing like a soldier waiting for orders. She reminded him of Cal, if Cal only had silver hair and intense dark eyes. Then, as if sensing her gaze, Ptolemus looked at her, held her gaze for a few seconds, then smirked.

Her cheeks flared up. _You could have picked someone else._

Elara laughed aloud. _Your escort is not negotiable, dear._

* * *

After what seemed to be the most uncomfortable breakfast for her, Alix was finally given respite by the queen. Elara did not give her any more tasks for today, except to appear later in the afternoon for Training. The downside, however, was that Alix had a new guard in her flock, one that was unfortunately called Samos.

They walked in stride with each other. Ptolemus did not seem to understand the idea of "ranks". No one was allowed to walk beside a royal unless that person was a royal himself. But rules and norms were not Alix's highest priority right now. She needed to get rid of her escort.

"I heard you have been to Summerton only twice, Your Highness?" Ptolemus began, his eyes on the road up ahead. They trekked the abandoned corridors behind the palace, one that would eventually lead to the briar labyrinth and Grand Garden.

 _So it begins: the idle conversations._

"Yes. First for King Tiberias's coronation anniversary and now for Cal's Queenstrial."

"Then you have barely seen the beauty of Summerton at the peak of the season." He turned left, followed by the princess, then the two Sentinels from Piedmont. "At this time of the year, rare flowers bloom so beautifully, the nobles are seeing each other again, and Reds are all over the place."

"They are?"

He nodded. "Have you been to the Grand Garden? It is the center of their little business world. Some Reds are quite fortunate to have business of their own, given the chance to earn money."

"I was there once." She remembered that day when Maven took her there. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

"And what did you see?" He stood almost a head taller than her, prompting him to look down every once in a while.

"Quite a number of Reds working."

Their group reached the briar labyrinth, the sunlight pouring all its warmth across the field. Alix flinched and moved back, one hand covering her eyes. She had been too engrossed in that conversation that she did not realize they were upon the gardens already. Her eyes hurt again, her head swimming, and suddenly there was a gentle hand on her back. For a moment there, she thought it was Cal, or maybe even Maven, but it was Ptolemus.

"Your Highness, you are all right?"

"Don't touch me," she whispered meekly, breathlessly. "You're not allowed to touch me."

Ptolemus checked himself and removed his hand. "Forgive me, Princess."

She opened one eye and looked at him. "Well, that's one Samos who knows his manners."

"Truly?" He chuckled and waited for her to adjust from the blinding sunlight. "I heard from Evangeline that you are quite a force to handle. She is not quite fond of you."

"Tell her the feeling's mutual."

"Nevertheless, I do admire what you've done in the Queenstrial. That shadow dragon was exceptional." He checked at her again. "Ready?"

Nodding, Alix accepted the offered arm and walked with him again. For once, she welcomed his presence, so that he could be someone to lean on while they crossed the field. She could feel Ptolemus's shadow moving, along with the two more Sentinels behind them. All the birds fluttering nearby, the leaves in the wind, the marble columns, she could feel their shadows.

Sentinel Novara then opened the gate that led to the farthest part of the Grand Garden.

"You may stay here," Alix told her guard. "Lord Samos and I could go alone."

"But Your Highness," Novara found himself disagreeing, something that never happened before. He did not trust anyone from the Samos brood, especially this young man with a curled smirk.

"Are you disobeying me, Sentinel?" Her voice was sharp and demanding.

His shoulders slumped. "No, Princess."

She laughed it off and tugged at Ptolemus's arm. "We would be back soon."

With that, the two left the premises of the castle and plunged into the Red territory. It was the same as Alix remembered: bustling, so full of life and people. Wherever you looked, there were both Silver and Red. Though they were not talking, it was nice to see them mingling. Despite herself and her dislike for the Samos brood, she found herself tugging once more at Ptolemus's arm, dragging him towards a silver fountain with young little nymphs playing around it.

"I am glad to know you enjoy yourself, Princess." Ptolemus chuckled.

She never expected him to be one for smiles. First time she saw him, he sneered and dared anyone who would challenge his sister's claim to the throne. She thought he would be just like Evangeline. "I have never been outside of palaces that much in my whole life."

"Really?" His brows knitted together. "Princesses from Piedmont are not allowed outside?"

"Not allowed to mingle with the Reds, no. But if it is a tour around the kingdom, then I am obliged to come. Mine is a house that would not miss the flash of the cameras." She sighed. How she missed her family, but at the same time, dreaded the day she needed to come back, only to complete the matched set her family had made over the years. Her brothers were probably pulling their hairs out while she was gone.

Ptolemus only nodded. "I understand. Reds could be quite dangerous if not handled properly."

"They cannot be harmful." She observed the ornate carving of the fountain, as more nymphs splashed water at each other. A Gliacon boy, perhaps around seven years, froze the water and laughed. "Even if they are, what could Reds do against the strength of a mighty magnetron?"

He grinned. "Or against a powerful wraith?"

"Ah, yes. Wraiths, always a wonder to the kingdom of Norta."

Before he could answer, something crashed several feet away from them. A middle-aged man, dressed in tattered grey fabric that seemed to pass for a clothing, dashed away from the scene. He cradled something in his arms as he evaded the numerous officers running after him. The Silver ladies shrieked and pointed dainty fingers at the man, the Silver lords shouting orders to apprehend the thief. The man bumped against a fellow Red, then he scrambled back to his feet and dashed towards the fountain.

In an instant, the nymph and shiver children ran away, calling for their parents. One of the nobles present brought a horse from an auction. The horse reared from the commotion and bolted off, and the running man made a grab for the reins, heaved himself up on the beast, and continued his escape.

Alix was amazed at the fast turn of events; it was already late when she realized that the Red was riding towards her. She would have been ran over, if not for Ptolemus grabbing her by the waist. They both fell on the floor, she landing on top of Ptolemus, her face pressed against the crook of his neck.

 _No, no, no, this can't be happening!_

She immediately sat up, concerned about the images the cameras could catch, but that was the least of Ptolemus's concerns.

Without looking at her, he growled and stood up. He extended his right arm and curled his fist. Despite being so far from them, the horse still reared and felt its reins tightening around the neck. It collapsed on the floor, throwing the thief aside. Slowly, Ptolemus approached the culprit and made him writhe in pain.

"My good… lord," the Red begged, wheezing as he tried to breathe. "No… more…"

But the Samos commander was not convinced. Gone were his charming smiles and chuckles. He curled his fist tighter and the man spasmed, kicking his legs vigorously.

"P-Please…"

Summerton's officers finally arrived at the scene.

"My Lord Samos," one of them panted, "thank you for the assistance. This man has been found guilty of stealing jewels from Lady Louise Haven. Stealing and for, um, property damage." Around them, the center of the Grand Garden was a mess of broken vases, uprooted plants, and scattered chairs and tables. His wary eyes landed on the princess. "And threatening the safety of Her Highness."

The commander remained silent. His cold dark eyes pierced the Red man. With an effortless wave of his hand, the Red was forced to his feet and the metal wire around his neck loosened. The officers surrounded the man and dragged him out of the scene.

"What a day."

Ptolemus blinked and turned beside him, where the princess stood with her hair disheveled from the commotion. His voice sounded concerned as he asked, "Your Highness, are you hurt?"

"No, but what would happen to him?" She nodded towards the thief.

"Imprisoned, sent away, probably to the war front. One of your Sentinels is a skin healer, yes?"

"I am really fine." She gave him a dismissive shake of head. "What happened here will not reach the queen's ear, would it?"

"By now I think she has heard of it." _And the princes will kill me for bringing you into this mess_. He sighed. Maybe it was time to return to the palace. That way he could see Evangeline and spend time with her. "We have taken too much of your time. Your Highness should return now and prepare for Training today."

"Oh yes, Training," she grumbled, but still followed him from where they came. She was not looking forward to spend another session with Evangeline and her lackeys, but at least she would get to see Cal and Mare. Maybe Maven. _Come to think of it, I haven't seen him today_. All this deal with Ptolemus Samos made her forget about the prince. "If you are now my escort, would that mean I would see you most of the time?"

"All the time, my lady."

Even if Evangeline was a stuck up, there was something about her brother that incited Alix's interest. "Then you and I would have a lot of time together, Lord Samos."

Smirking, the magnetron only said, "Please call me Ptolemus, Your Highness."

* * *

House Samos lived in a dark mansion, located at the outskirts of Summerton. Its black spiky roofs and towering pillars indicated that this place was not one for children. Gates, fences, and even the fountain were made from polished black metal, and a banner striped with black-and-silver hung at the center of the mansion. Members of the family went to and fro, locked in conversations, somehow wearing the same kind of uniform that soldiers and officers wore.

Up in Volo Samos's room, his children were gathered before him for an important meeting.

"I am surprised the queen allowed you such honor," Volo mused, his boney fingers taking up the queen chess piece from the board. "Never would one imagine that House Samos would be honored to escort the Piedmont princess."

Ptolemus flashed a curling smile as he puffed his chest in confidence. "The queen trusts me so."

Evangeline scoffed from her position beside the window. "She's just toying with you, with us."

"Still," their father pressed on, eyes dark as night boring through both of them, "this opportunity can make us one step closer to another crown."

"Exactly." Ptolemus nodded.

"With Evangeline next in line for the throne, we can have Ptolemus next in line for Piedmont."

"But she's not the heir!" Evangeline screamed, standing up, clutching her black dress in frustration. "She has four older brothers, all next in line for the crown! How can Ptolemus aim for something so farfetched?"

Volo clicked his tongue, which made his daughter think twice about her outburst. "It seems your Lessons should might as well go to waste, Evangeline."

Before she could make another point, he added, "The princes of Piedmont are not all wraiths. Only one, the second eldest, Prince Umberto, inherited House Caralis's abilities. The three others, Rainier, Victor, and Francis—firmas like their mother Queen Margaux. The next wraith would then be Princess Alix, and Piedmont has different rules of succession. They value ability more than the order of birth, and by all means, it makes Princess Alix second-in-line to the throne, after Prince Umberto."

Evangeline could not believe this. She never knew such rules existed in Piedmont. It sounded ludicrous, but somehow it worked. _Ability before birth_.

"She makes an easy target for the crown," Ptolemus agreed.

"But of course, someone needs to make the proposal." Volo directed his gaze back to his son. "At this rate, with Prince Tiberias and Prince Maven engaged with others, the Lakelands or Prairie would make an offer the princes of Piedmont could not resist."

"Not while we are here," Ptolemus said, tapping his nails against his black armor.

"You are aiming to _marry_ that wench?" His sister laughed at the absurdity of the plan. "I would never think she's capable of falling for you."

Ptolemus narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Alix will see through this at once."

"Not unless I give her reason to. I have spent the afternoon with her, and I could deduce that winning her over is a simple trick—not even a trick, really. If you show her kindness, she returns it. Give her attention and she revels in it. Treat her wrongly or disrespect her… she would not take it kindly."

"I trust your ability in this to handle the princess," Volo said.

With one hand against his chest and a quick nod, Ptolemus answered, "Leave it all to me, Father."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hello again, everyone! It's nice to be back, especially when we all know that King's Cage would be released soon! Can't wait to see what happens next, though I did read some teaser chapters published in the internet. While we eagerly wait for King Maven's return, how about we enjoy ourselves in fanfictions, too?

Here, Elara's little plan finally comes into action. Apparently, she sets Ptolemus Samos to be Alix's escort. I believe she's doing this out of pure hostility, but somehow also an amusement for herself (especially if Maven finds out). I decided to include Ptolemus because he is such an interesting character in the books, though VA never really expands his characters other than being Evangeline's aggressive and somewhat protective brother. I have always wanted for House Samos to play a larger role in the books, so I decided to give them roles in my story. In here, House Samos aims for two thrones: Norta and Piedmont. It may or may not go according to plan, but that depends on how Ptolemus and Evangeline play the Game of Thrones. (Oops, wrong fandom!)

I hope you guys enjoyed this sort-of-a-long chapter. I did quite enjoy writing it, since writing Cal always amuses me for some reason. XD

* **Lalola** \- Thank you so much for the two consecutive reviews! Let me hug you through the internet! In regards to Maven and Alix, I think they would be too stubborn to admit their feelings (if they would ever come to that). Maven has his duties and Alix respects that. As for Cal, he makes a good big brother for everyone. LOL at Elara being the she-devil! She truly is someone who gets on anyone's nerves. In the books, she has a natural deviousness in her and I actually like it. She makes up plans that she knows would benefit her and Maven, but would also be for her amusement and Maven's exasperation. Her latest plan that involves Ptolemus might end up with Maven throwing _more_ than fireballs at her. XD

Anyway, I thank everyone who has read this chapter. You guys rock! Now join me in the darkness as we wait for King's Cage to come.


	11. Different Lessons

**Chapter 11**

 _ **Different Lessons**_

* * *

Lady Blonos's classroom was bland and empty, with nothing but a wall of windows and black cameras jutting from the four corners of the room. The wallpaper was a sad shade of light green, one that reminded Alix of a plate of salad went rotten. Still, she was grateful that there was a couch and mirror to occupy herself.

She stood in front of the full length mirror, twirling a lock of her hair, as she observed the airy, flowing gown she wore for today. It was not like the other monstrous gowns with corsets and thick petticoats; it was truly just simple and flowing, reaching her knees, the silk soft and ticklish against her pale skin. Her hair, unbound as it was, was adorned with a simple golden hairpin.

She felt someone approaching the classroom and she did not turn around to see whom it was. "Lovely morning, Lady Titanos."

Mare blinked, surprised to see her. "Alix?"

Now _that_ made her turn around. "I beg your pardon?"

"I mean, _Princess_ Alix," Mare corrected herself. "What are you doing here?"

"Lady Blonos asked me to come here for reasons unknown. By my colors, at this time of the day, I could be exploring the Grand Garden again." A frown crossed her face.

Garbed in her own white-and-purple gown, Mare stepped forward. She still struggled with the weight of the fabric and high heels. "I heard news about an accident at the Garden yesterday. Lucas told me someone robbed Lady Haven of her jewels, and Lord Viper of his horse. Who was it, who did it?"

"No one in particular." Alix shrugged. "Though he is a Red."

"A Red?" Mare gasped, her brown eyes wide. "What will happen to him?"

Another shrug. "I have no idea at all. If you have questions, you could ask some of the officers."

Mare felt irritated at the princess' lack of empathy to the Reds. She sounded like someone who truly did not care at all, like the rest of the Silver gods spoiled in their Silver world. The electricity burned within her veins, ready to lash out, those purple-white sparks that had almost shot Evangeline at the Queenstrial. Since she became Mareena, not one of the Silvers she met cared or gave second thoughts about the Reds, about how they lived, about how much they sacrificed for the war.

"Now, now, don't frown," Alix admonished, her abilities picking up the slightest movements from the corridor. "Here comes Lady Blonos, and it seems she's not alone."

The door swung open, untouched by Lady Blonos. She entered with her chin held high, as proud as a noble did. Her pale skin was tight over her bones, especially over her face. Deep grey eyes regarded the two princesses, and she was not one to forget her manners: she immediately bowed at the sight of Alix, sweeping her a low bow that had her light green skirts swirling about her.

"Thank you for obliging my invitation, Your Royal Highness," Bess Blonos said.

"I am more than happy to assist, Lady Blonos."

Behind the blood healer, Ptolemus Samos followed suit. He was out of his usual commander uniform, now donning a black leather jacket and a silver vest underneath. He looked every inch the son of a noble lord, and brother to the future queen.

Alix was dumfounded to have him here.

"What are you doing here?" Mare all but snapped.

Bess Blonos tutted, as she settled a crimson music box near the window. "Dancing is an art, is it not, Princess Alistrine? With the Parting Ball less than a month away, it is customary for princesses to know how to dance," she began her lecture, pacing in front of her three students but her eyes were locked on Mare's.

"I understand that dancing is essential," Mare interrupted, "but why are they here?"

"Good question." Blonos smiled, stretching her skin even further, and all Alix and Mare could do was _not_ retch at the horrifying sight. She pressed the button on the music box and a lively, romantic tune blared within the classroom.

 _Now I understand_ , Alix thought.

Without words, she stepped closer to Ptolemus and he did the same. He took her hands into his, clasping them softly in his large calloused hands. _The hands of a predator_ , the princess thought. She let him move in time with the music, taking steps forwards and backwards, and then a twirl, where Ptolemus's hand would move down to the curve of her waist, guiding the dance from there. Standing in front of him, and so close, Alix noticed that he was a head taller than she was, and his eyes were not actually black as the night. _They are grey, the deepest shade of grey with flecks of silver_. He kept his eyes locked on hers, and never had she felt so uncomfortable with someone's presence before. She could handle ten songs with Cal as her partner; she could _suffer_ through dozens with Maven, but not with Ptolemus. _All but him._

"Marvelous." Lady Blonos clapped as the two dancers stepped away from each other. She turned to see Mare's pale face. "From now on, Princess Alix and Lord Ptolemus would teach you dancing, Lady Titanos. For days until the Parting Ball."

 _Wonderful_. Mare slumped her shoulders. "I don't suppose I have to partner up with Ptolemus, too, right?"

A mischievous smile came to his lips. "Would you rather not try me, Lady Titanos?"

There was something about this Samos that was flirty and secretly aggressive, Mare could tell. She only scoffed and looked at Alix, who remained quiet and waited more of Blonos's instructions.

"I called the princess here simply for her expertise in dancing," Blonos explained. "From traditional to courtship dances, right, Your Highness?"

Alix smiled. "With a little bit of contemporary and acrobatics, too."

"Lord Ptolemus is here to be your partner, seeing how difficult it would be to dance without tripping in your own two feet. At least someone would hold you, Lady Titanos. Now, shall we resume?"

Again, Blonos pressed the button and the same music played. This time, Mare watched more carefully as Alix and Ptolemus took up the center of the room again, hand clasped, eyes locked on each other. She wondered why none of them felt awkward, since they were not friends at all. However, watching them so focused on the task at hand, twirling and touching, Mare understood that they were taking this seriously. Cal once explained that Alix loved the theatrics of dancing, but Mare was not sure behind Ptolemus's seriousness.

"Should it be your turn now, Lady Titanos?" Alix asked her, not even breaking a sweat that Mare knew she would have upon first step.

"I hope not," Mare grumbled.

The princess laughed quietly. "Let me give you a piece of advice: let Ptolemus lead you on, he knows the dance surprisingly well, and besides, lords are supposed to lead the dance anyway." She leaned close to whisper. "Though I advice you not to step on his feet. That dagger hidden beneath his sleeve seems well sharpened."

Mare's widened eyes went to Ptolemus and he acknowledged her stare with a smirk.

"But he will not harm you," Alix assured her. "Go now, before Lady Blonos loses that temper of hers." _I so would not want to see that kind of face contorted into anger. I shall have nightmares._

"Ready, Lady Mareena?" Ptolemus clasped Mare's hand in a not-so-gentle way, and began to move his feet.

Bess Blonos's perfect eyebrows were knitted together, watching an expert dancer move an amateur. Ptolemus was practically dragging Mare around the room. He did not allow her to catch her breath; instead, he twirled her more roughly that was necessary, which had Mare's head swimming around.

Alix worried more about Blonos's reaction than Mare's current headache. With a flick of her index finger, a portion of Mare's shadow slipped out of the floor and took hold of both her ankles. Mare yelped at the strange feeling as the shadow guided her feet, hidden underneath her gown. A few seconds later, Mare moved in time with Ptolemus and the music, and Bess Blonos's frown turned into a small smile.

Exactly an hour later, the dance lessons came into an end.

"Well done, Lady Titanos," Blonos congratulated her. "Not bad for a first timer."

 _Thank goodness, I can finally leave_. Mare tried to catch her breath. She made a mental note to burn Ptolemus Samos into a crisp later on.

As if reading her mind, Blonos added, "You may not leave yet. You are scheduled three and a half hours in Protocol. Lord Ptolemus and Princess Alistrine are allowed to leave though." She crossed the room and spare one last bow to Alix. "Thank you once again for your time, Your Highness."

"Anytime, Lady Blonos. I would be happy to teach dancing lessons to Lady Titanos."

"May I escort you out, Your Highness?" Ptolemus looked down to her, and his intense gaze did not take no for an answer.

With a smile, Alix accepted his proffered arm, spared a wink to Mare, and left Blonos's classroom.

* * *

Sometimes Maven wondered why his mother appointed the Piedmont entourage to the farthest part of the residence halls. It was as if the queen wanted Alix and her Sentinels out of the way. Still, it did not matter now. His betrothed was occupied in Protocol for two more hours—enough to spend time with Alix.

He walked alone, something that did not happen often, but it took all his wits to reason out with the stubborn Sentinel Marinos to leave him alone for now. The corridor was quiet, and judging on how well lighted the corridors was, Alix might not be around. Still, he wanted to be sure. He glanced at the Piedmont Sentinels, knights in their golden armors and white capes.

"Is Princess Alix here?"

"She has left early in the morning, Your Highness," one of the Sentinels answered. "A request from Lady Blonos."

His brows furrowed. "She is in Protocol right now?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"For what reason?"

The Sentinel hesitated. "That I do not know."

Maven sighed and raked his fingers through his black hair. _No matter, I can still find her_. He thanked the Sentinel and set out on his way again, cursing under his breath. Yesterday he did not have the time to see Alix. Everything was in disarray in the palace since Mare's arrival, but slowly, nobles and servants were accepting the fact that there was a new princess, but with questionable origins.

He took the nearest route that would take him to Blonos's classroom. He was nearing the arena for Training when a familiar voice stopped him.

"Where are you off to, dear?"

"Looking for Alix," he answered at once, barely glancing at her. He scoffed at his mother's untimely delay. "Let's talk later. I need to find her."

"Oh, but she's occupied as we speak." Elara was alone as well, dressed in the bright colors of House Merandus. "I could tell, because I could hear her thoughts."

Maven tensed. He turned around to face his mother, his face already threatening her. "We agreed into this. You're not supposed to be whispering, especially if it's her."

"Why ever not?" She laughed as demurely as a queen. She took two steps forwards, tapping her heels on the polished floor. "Oh, Maven, why ever not? Not when her thoughts are as interesting as they are now? She seems to enjoy the company of our good Commander Samos, that silver-tongued devil."

"Wait, what? What do you mean she's with Ptolemus?"

"She's a princess, and princesses need escorting all the time. Ptolemus Samos is the best we have at the moment—handsome, powerful, and surely a magnetron like him is compatible with a wraith like her."

"You appointed Ptolemus as her escort?!" Maven raged; his arms were ready to shoot flames. "Ptolemus of all people, Mother? Why! He's an ambitious magnetron like his sister, like the rest of House Samos! Believe me when I tell you that they would only aim for her crown, and nothing else! When he's done with her, Ptolemus will kill her!"

"Oh, hush, Maven." Elara patted his head, treating him like a puppy. "Of course I know this. But you know what people say right? Keep your enemies closer. With both Evangeline and Ptolemus around, it would be easy to read their minds. Let Ptolemus enjoy what little time he has with Alistrine. By the end of summer, he would be gone with the rest of our enemies."

She kissed his cheek. "You need to be patient, my love."

"If he harms her—"

"By then you would be king." She smiled victoriously, a feral image to see. "And kings could decide what is treason and not."

"But if he ever puts a scratch on her—"

"Does that look like a face that would harm a princess?" She pointed towards a nearby window, down to the couple in the gardens.

Even from afar, Alix's golden gown shimmered in the late morning sun. She had her arm intertwined with Ptolemus, her eyes looking up to him as they spoke. Ptolemus acted as if a real escort would, and the bastard seemed to enjoy it as well. His charming smile could not hide the lies underneath, and Maven wondered if Alix bought all the lies told to her.

"Don't worry." Elara sighed, sensing her son's apprehension. "Alistrine keeps all our enemies around, doesn't she? First House Lerolan, and now House Samos. We need to do something to thank her."

Maven shot his mother a glare. "Don't touch her. Whatever you're planning, leave it. Ptolemus Samos is the last straw. I _mean_ it, Mother."

Again, she kissed his cheek, basking in his temper. "If you say so, my king."

* * *

"We spent the previous summer watching plays at the Sunspear Theater in Archeon."

Ptolemus occupied the princess with stories of his own, which had started about Evangeline and now moved on about his whole family. He never thought he would _resort_ to something as cheap as this, telling tales about his family, but the princess was adamant to hear about his stories.

He was surprisingly right about one thing: pleasing her was easy. She acted every inch like a royal, but her innocence about how the outside world, away from her father's palaces and dancing halls, was something else. She listened with outmost interest, barely interrupting his narration to ask questions. Ptolemus supposed she was rather spoiled by one brother, or all of them, judging on how demanding she could be.

"Plays, you say?" Her eyes twinkled at the thought of such. _We never have plays in Piedmont_. "With people acting and play-fighting?"

He chuckled, something that was easy to come to him since he began escorting the princess yesterday. That, too, was surprising. "Yes. If I remember correctly, the play is about a knight falling in love with a princess." Now that was true, no matter how cringe-worthy it was.

Alix made a disgusted face. "Oh, how vile. I would rather watch knights fighting each other in the name of the crown."

"That's interesting," he agreed, nodding. "I would watch that."

The gardens were well-tended for a summer palace. King Tiberias had kept members of House Welle as keepers for the garden. This year, red-and-golden flowers bloomed at every corner of the labyrinth. Fountains were polished to perfection. The glass roof above reflected the sunlight, warming the place.

"Have you been to Archeon before, Your Highness?" Ptolemus asked, trying to keep the conversation moving.

"Of course I have." Alix settled herself on the rim of the fountain, looking down at her reflection in the water. Then she dipped her right hand, letting the cool water soothe her. "I have always been in Archeon when I come to Norta. Sometimes, if it is Cal's birthday, we spend a week in Harbor Bay."

"A fitting place to go."

"Why?"

"It—" Ptolemus stopped short, hearing the leaves rustle.

Alix heard it, too. She jumped to her feet, left hand outstretched, ready to summon shadows in the garden. Her voice was sharp as she commanded, "I know you're there. Your shadows betray you."

"Dear me, I never wished to intrude upon the two of you."

A tall man in baggy yellow robes emerged from the other side, his brown hair a little dismantled. He tried to comb his fingers through them, but somehow it only made his appearance look worse. Ptolemus snorted at his woe attempt. When he stepped forward, smiling so warmly, one could see the lines around his eyes, indicating his age.

Ptolemus glowered. "Jacos."

The man nodded. "Samos."

Alix blinked and dropped her hand to her side. "Uh, Caralis?"

"What brings you out of your miserable hole, Jacos?" Ptolemus sneered, his powerful arms crossed over his chest.

"Last time I checked, this palace belongs to King Tiberias."

"Wait." Alix raised her hand again, this time with a shadow sweeping upwards, cutting Ptolemus off. She observed the newcomer from head to toe. "Julian, is that you?"

"Ah, at last." Julian chuckled. "I have seen so many ladies since the Queenstrial, but no one else shines as brightly as you do, Princess."

Laughing, Alix greeted him with an embrace. "You truly are a singer, aren't you? We need more of your kind in Piedmont. At least singers know how to manage their tongues."

Julian laughed as well. "Such a pity Piedmont does not have enough singers, just as Norta does not have wraiths."

"Which makes our kingdoms even."

"Norta and Piedmont have no need for singers, Your Highness," Ptolemus said. He could not afford people interrupting him while he was on the process of luring the princess into his trap, the Samos trap. "The second to the last singer—what was her name again?—had tricked the king into marrying her."

"That is not true," Julian said passionately, fire blazing in his eyes.

"Who could say that it is not true?" Ptolemus challenged. In a battle of strength, this poor Jacos would be drowning in his own silverblood by now. "No one could ever resist the control of a singer, not even whispers."

"But what about singer against a magnetron?" Julian dared.

Alix frowned and pushed Ptolemus back with a shadowy tendril. "That's enough, Ptolemus. One of us here needs to show respect, and that is certainly not my duty."

"Forgive me, Princess," Ptolemus said gently, much to Julian's surprise. Who knew Volo Samos's son, the elite Commander of Archeon, would apologize at once?

"I am going with Julian for now."

The magnetron's dark eyes narrowed. "I am your escort."

"And I am the princess. You do not command me, Lord Samos," Alix pointed out. Her hand was already in Julian's arm as they began to walk away. "It was nice seeing you at Lady Blonos's lessons, but for today I would spend time with Lord Jacos. Have a pleasant day, Ptolemus."

There was nothing else Ptolemus could say. He watched them cross the gardens, walking just as close as he and the princess had been only ten minutes ago. It seemed her temper could also be volatile depending on the person she was with. At least that helped him plan his next moves.

Without no one else to escort and talk to, Ptolemus sighed and went in search for his sister.

* * *

"How time flies!" Alix exclaimed. "I cannot believe I haven't seen you in two years, Julian!"

Julian smiled. "You spent the Cal's birthday in Harbor Bay last year, remember? I remained in Archeon."

"Was it really just last year?" She tried to think about it. She remembered Harbor Bay as the bustling city that bordered the ocean coast. During Cal's eighteenth birthday, she and her brother Umberto had gifted the crown prince a gilded sword.

"Yes. It was a shame I couldn't spend the celebration with my nephew." He sighed. "I would have given him another book to enjoy."

"Cal doesn't strike me as someone who enjoys books, unless they are about warfare."

"Well, Cal appreciates everything given to him, even if he doesn't like it deep down. Just like his mother, he is too kind to brush people off."

Alix's smiled vanished. "I am sorry Ptolemus had to speak that way about your sister."

"I expected nothing less from a Samos like him." He shrugged it off, leading her away from the garden and into the shade. _Wraiths love their shadows after all._

"What have you been doing now? You followed the king's entourage for the Queenstrial, of course, but what else is there for Lord Julian, heir of House Jacos?"

"You mean heir of nothing but old books and scrolls. For now, I have been tasked into teaching Lady Mareena Titanos about how Norta came to be, geography, and perhaps even court intrigue, something that Maven and his mother are good players."

She ignored the implication about Maven. "So teaching Mare about her abilities, too?"

Julian was taken aback that she knew, but none of it mattered. "If you wish, you could join us. Perhaps your wisdom could assist us in figuring out how Mare came to be. Her abilities are extraordinary. She could sense the pulse and life of every technology that runs through electricity, and use them to her will. Just as how wraiths could tell one's shadow from another."

"You were there because—"

"Because I wanted to closer look on how wraiths use their abilities. Perhaps it would shed light on Mare's."

"That's impossible." The princess stopped walking, glaring at Julian. "Our abilities are polar opposites: she could control lightning, while I control darkness."

"Every person, every ability balances each other," Julian said, his voice all soft and understanding. "What I learned so far is that Silver abilities extend to more than what we currently know. I am still in the process of figuring out if burners, like Cal and his father, could make things explode like oblivions, if they could manipulate the heat of an object. Sounds plausible, right?"

"Or if nymphs could create mist and use them like a windweaver uses hurricanes?"

He nodded. "Exactly."

"It is not so far-fetched, but if you wish to examine Mare's lightning ability, leave me out of it."

"You know, that shadow dragon from the Queenstrial was a magnificent feat," Julian mused, one finger tapping his chin. A mischievous gleam danced in his eyes. "Not one wraith in the world could make shadows solid. It always fascinates me how wraiths could have so many secrets."

Alix smirked. "Then I am sorry there are not many wraiths in Norta that you could examine, Lord Jacos."

He laughed. "You remind me so much of Coriane. Seeing how fond Cal has become of you, my sister would have been glad to know that Cal has someone to look after."

"What do you mean?"

"Growing up as a little boy, Cal has had so many friends, all sons from the High Houses. Whenever he played with Oliver Laris, he would always come to me and ask, ' _Uncle Julian, why can't I have a sister like Oliver does?'_ And I would say, _'No, little one, because it is all your father's decision'_."

She could not help but smile at the thought of little Cal asking for a sister.

"Of course he had Maven, but there was something with little sisters that Cal always wanted. He envied Oliver Laris and his sister; he spied Andros Eagrie and wondered if he had a sister, too. Cal is a soldier by nature, but a protector by heart. He always needs someone to protect, and that what makes him stronger."

"And me?"

"And you, my dear Royal Highness, are the sister Cal has never had."

"He is always looking out for everyone." She remembered that day in Training, when Evangeline threatened to spill blood but Cal was immediately there, wrapping her in his arms and defending her from his betrothed. Even a few years back, she remembered Cal running towards her when she fell and scraped her knee, or when she shivered during a harsh winter and Cal gave her a thick blanket, sat down next to her, and ignited the fireplace. Maven was there, too, always safe under big brother's watchful eye.

"Cori would have been proud of him," Julian whispered, thinking of the long lost sister that he loved so much. "She would have raised him to be the king that would unite as all, not the soldier Tiberias trained him to be."

Alix remained silent. Julian was right. _Queen Coriane would have made a far better queen than Elara._

* * *

Author's Notes: Happy Valentine's Day to everyone! I hope all of you enjoy this special, for this day is dedicated for love; not just love for your significant other, but also to your family and friends. With that being said, let me begin my rant:

First of all, KING'S CAGE is out and it is everything that I wanted it to be! Actually, it exceeded my expectations when it came to Maven's character development. The book made me fall in love with his character even more, especially after his revelation about his upbringing and Elara. What a vile mother she is! Samson Merandus was a prick, but I loved his appearances, especially when he said, " _[Elara] was a surgeon with minds. I am a butcher._ " This right here, folks, is one of the most memorable lines for me. Also, I loved the expansion on Ptolemus's and Evangeline's characters: Ptolemus seemed rather mild and tamed here, whereas Evangeline's relationship with Elane was not entirely a surprise, but it still rocked. Larentia Viper reminded me of an animos Elara Merandus, though. Lastly, establishing Cal as King Tiberias the Seventh was exhilarating (all thanks to Nanabel!).

On to this story, we get a glimpse of Maven's opinion about his mother's plan on partnering Alix with Ptolemus. Apparently, our beloved prince and would-be king is none too pleased and he threatens Elara more and more each day. What a way to stand up for yourself, Mavey! You make me proud! I also wanted to expand Cal's character through the conversation between Alix and Julian: as it turns out, cute little Cal has always wanted a sister. Imagining him like that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Next chapter, I believe we would see more of Alix and Maven. So stay tuned, and tell me your thoughts about King's Cage! Let's fangirl together!

* **ShinigamiReiko** \- Cal might be a little surprised about this, but Maven sure is not happy with it! XD

* **LovecraftXx** \- You are probably the most ardent Calix supporter here! I salute you, my friend!

* **Guest** \- Thank you so much! I am glad you're enjoying the story so far!

* **Taira** \- I think we should start calling Elara many names by now. Elara "the she-devil, sly little minx" Merandus. LOL.

* **Sophie** \- Thank you for dedicating time to read the story! I feel so honored to receive three reviews from you in one day! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too!


	12. Iron in the Fire

**Chapter 12**

 _ **Iron in the Fire**_

* * *

 _Nine minutes, twenty-three seconds._

Maven stood by the entrance of the arena, eyeing the lone clock set there. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look nonchalant as the clock ticked on. His impatience had led him ten minutes earlier than the schedule for Training, leaving him alone with no one but himself and his two Sentinels waiting for the other participants.

 _Seven minutes, fifty-seven seconds._

The doors opened with a heavy clang of metal against metal. Evangeline Samos arrived with a frown plastered on her face. Behind her, Ptolemus followed, keeping close eye on his younger sister. When the two magnetrons noticed the prince, they shared a glance, but only Ptolemus had the manners to greet Maven with a curt nod. Maven fought the urge to scowl at his brother's betrothed; no matter how intelligent Cal was, his chose for a bride was exceedingly poor.

The Samos siblings found a bench across the arena and waited there.

Maven was about to look at the clock again when the doors opened, with Cyrine Macanthos locked in a friendly conversation with Andros Eagrie, an eye who could see the immediate future. Maven thought including Andros in training was just a waste of time, but he spared both Cyrine and Andros a little nod as they passed him by.

 _Five minutes._

More and more elite teens poured in: Atara Viper, Heron Welle, Sonya Iral, Elane Haven, and even Oliver Laris, a windweaver and one of Cal's closest friends.

"Maven!" Oliver called out, ever so enthusiastic about every little thing. "Why are you lingering by the entrance? Waiting for big brother, are you?"

 _Definitely not_. Maven forced a smile, not quite fond how Oliver treated him like a child. He tore his eyes off the clock and stared at the windweaver, whose warm hazel eyes looked back at him. "I am waiting for Lady Titanos."

"Ah, but of course!" Oliver slapped his forehead, laughing at himself. "Waiting for your princess…"

"Have you had the chance to meet her?"

"Not yet, but you must introduce her to me formally, Maven. I heard she's quite interesting, especially with that background of hers."

Maven almost winced, remembering the charade everyone in his family had to play for Mare.

"How is she coping with the life here at court?" Oliver asked earnestly. "It must be hard for her, considering how she was raised in a Red village." Before the prince could defend his betrothed, Oliver added, "But I can see she's a natural."

With brows furrowed, Maven turned around to look where Oliver was nodding, and fair enough, Mare arrived with Lucas Samos at her heels, the personal bodyguard Queen Elara had chosen for her. Lucas whispered something and Mare replied with a small smile, before the officer nodded and left. At once, Evangeline, Sonya, and Elane approached Mare, with the intentions of the not-so-friendly kind.

"I need to go," Maven told Oliver.

"Of course." Oliver stalked off towards Andros and Cyrine, in hopes of sparking a conversation.

"Graduated from Protocol already? Did you finally master the art of sitting with your legs crossed?" Evangeline mocked Mare, as Sonya and Elane flanked her sides.

Maven stepped forward, letting his scowl show. "That's enough from the three of you."

Evangeline stood her ground against the prince. She was a year older than he was, and though a few inches shorter, anyone could see the obvious gap between their abilities. Evangeline might be a highborn lady, but she was trained by her father and brother to be a ruthless fighter. The sudden flair of her temper showed when a dagger clinked against her spiky belt, hoping to draw a fight.

It might be another clash, had not Cal arrived.

The crown prince looked like a handsome knight in his black leather training suit, slashed with red and silver on the sleeves to show that he was of House Calore, the family of burners. Beside him, Alix walked, matching Cal's steps with her own, and still moved with the grace of a dancer. Both were engaged in a conversation, and an amusing one at that, judging at how Cal's warm laughs resonated in the arena.

Maven's eyes narrowed at the sight of them, so close to each other that one could have mistaken Alix to be Cal's betrothed.

"Who's that?" Mare interrupted his train of thoughts, pointing towards a pale elderly robed in white. "I think I must have seen him somewhere."

"That's Rane Arven," he answered, grateful for her distraction. "One of the finest executioners Norta has ever had, and the Burning Crown values House Arven very greatly. Their abilities are considered rare and more valuable than most."

"He doesn't look like an executioner to me," Mare whispered. "He's more like a grandfather who might breathe his last breath any moment soon."

Maven laughed. "Don't let him hear you though."

Everyone who used their abilities in the arena suddenly stopped: Oliver's whirlwinds faded into dust, Atara's hawk companion flew off, and even Evangeline's daggers dropped to the ground. All turned around to see that the instructor had arrived with his telky assistant.

"Laps," Lord Arven said in barely a whisper.

The teens started off, from jogging to sprinting and racing each other around. Maven ran closely beside Mare, keeping an eye on her as she raced towards Evangeline. Even though he was loath to admit to himself that being betrothed to her was the last thing he ever wanted, he still felt the need to watch over her, as if he was responsible for her. _Well, she is my betrothed for the time being_. When he was sure that Evangeline was not going to throw daggers at Mare, he set his eyes somewhere else.

To Cal and Alix.

Cal led the group, setting the pace for everyone, ensuring that he remained at the head while no one was left behind. He was still occupied in a conversation with Alix. Even as the floor shifted and the wall cracked because of Provos's ability, the two seemed dauntless and continued sprinting.

Suddenly, the wall caught Mare unaware and knocked her down to the ground.

Maven had to slow down; he simply had to. "Welcome to training," he teased. "You all right?"

"I got it." Mare panted and began to try again, with Maven not so far behind her.

After the laps, Instructor Arven commanded his charges to practice targeting the disks Theo Provos continuously threw into the air, while the instructor himself was comfortable under the shade. Once he looked at Mare and acknowledged her presence, asked her to display her rare ability, and that was it. He did no more recognition of her presence or ability; he simply moved on to the next part of training.

The first match was between Tirana Osanos and Heron Welle. Maven noticed that the nymph looked particularly ready to fight, seeing the glint of excitement in her dark blue eyes. Heron, however, seemed to be not in the mood, but trudged towards the center all the same. The battle began as quickly as Tirana leeched water from the air, sent a tide to the greenwarden, hoping to drown her. But Heron answered with grove of trees springing from the floor, tall enough to counter Tirana's tsunami.

Mare watched with little interest, until her brown eyes filled with life as Tirana delivered the final blow. She had trapped Heron in a vortex of water. A few moments later, the greenwarden surrendered after feats of coughing and wheezing.

Cyrine Macanthos volunteered to fight, pointing her index finger to Elane Haven. The shadow girl simply smiled and agreed, her eyes watching the stoneskin with great caution.

If Maven heard correctly, Elane was set to be betrothed soon. His gaze went to Evangeline, who stood in front of the crowd, seemingly nervous. Did she care for Elane strongly enough to be edgy? The prince did not know, and he did not care. Instead, he tried to search for Cal and Alix. He blinked, the confusion washing him over, when he found Cal standing alone.

Instinctively, he searched in the crowd, seeing the faces of the Silver teens waiting for the match to start. Then, at the farthest end of the audience, Maven saw Alix standing beside Ptolemus, the two of them sharing a conversation good enough to have Alix laughing and Ptolemus touching her waist to keep her from falling. The princess' laugh was loud enough to catch the attention of Instructor Arven, that after Cyrine defeated Elane with a strong punch to the gut, the silence cleared his throat.

Rane Arven's cold, dark eyes searched through the arena, landing on the Samos magnetron and Piedmont princess.

"Princess Alistrine."

Maven noticed the look of defiance in her face and could not help but smirk at her reaction.

Begrudgingly, the princess took up the center of the arena as the spectators huddled closer, eager to watch today's match.

"I hope she gets Evangeline," Mare whispered in Maven's ear, edgy on her feet, almost excited to watch as well.

A princely eyebrow rose. "You want to pit Alix with Evangeline? You're cruel. That fight would surely end up with blood on the floor, and no one would admit defeat."

"But it will be a good match, right?"

"Maybe. However," Maven grumbled, sighing, "Cal would not allow that to happen."

Mare cocked her head to the side, looking curious. "And that's because…?"

"You'll see."

"Why is he still here?" She nodded towards Ptolemus, who remained at the corner, watching.

"He's Alix's escort from now on. I suppose he wants to keep an eye on both her and his sister."

"Evangeline needs no bodyguard. And neither does Alix."

Instructor Arven was still busy deciding which one of the participants to choose. He had seen Prince Cal and Princess Alix in a friendly match, Alix and Evangeline challenging each other, and even Alix daring to choke Sonya on the first day of Training. The others were practically avoiding his eyes, the participants not so keen on fighting a wraith from the south.

Then he finally decided. "Andros."

A short, yet muscular young man trudged into the arena. He almost matched Alix's height, though his big arms and barrel chest suggested he was more of a strongarm than an eye.

"The honor is mine, Your Highness," Andros said, bowing a little.

"And the honor of losing would be yours as well," Alix countered, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

 _An eye against a wraith_ , Maven thought, guessing which one would win. _Maybe Andros has the advantage; he has his ability and strength after all. He could take Alix and knock her out easily._

The instructor asked the audience, "Who has the advantage? Lady Iral?"

Sonya smirked, her dark eyes locked on Alix's. "Andros has the advantage; he is more physically fit than the princess. With his ability, he could outsmart his opponent without a doubt."

"Excellent," Arven murmured, nodding. He turned towards the princess, pouring oil into the fire. "Impress me."

"Oh, I will." Alix scoffed haughtily. "Hold on to your seat, Arven."

Among the audience, Cal was the only one who smiled. Maven remained silent, his heart caught up in his throat at the princess' defiance. _Was she out of her mind, talking back to Rane Arven like that?_

But the instructor simply waved it off. "Please do begin."

The princess began waving her fingers in the air, taunting Andros, knowing that he would not be caught in her trap. He could see the future, he could easily tell where her shadows would come from and what they could do to him. Instead, she kept him tantalized with the movements of her hand, her golden eyes seductively locked on Andros's grey eyes.

Maven snorted and crossed his arms, well knowing how Alix could fool around with her shadows.

Andros, however, was getting tired of the absence of action. It had been a full minute, then three minutes, with nothing but him staring at the princess and her constant waving and flicking of her hand and fingers. He charged, putting all his strength and weight on his upper body. His ability was in constant use, checking whether the princess would dodge or send shadows to assail him.

She did both, and Andros was unprepared.

Alix sidestepped her opponent as he attempted to tackle her. Andros seemed to have anticipated this, so he whirled to the direction where Alix dodged. He raised his fist to punch her, but at the same time, his shadow emerged from the stone floor and sailed upwards, hitting his jaw. Alix took the distraction to distance herself from the eye and let her shadows dance from there.

The shadows from the other teens followed the flick of her wrist, crowding over Andros as he tried to punch his way out of the tendrils that curled around his feet, wrapped around his waist and neck, forcing him to his knees. Andros's precognition ability proved nothing against the shadows that closed in on him.

"Fight fairly!" Andros screamed from the shadowy dome he was entrapped in.

Alix blinked. "Oh, but I am fighting fairly," she said, her voice all sweet and innocent. "We are fighting using our abilities, are we not? An eye against a wraith. It's your clairvoyance against my shadows, Andros. Or do you mean to say that you are no match against your _own_ shadow?"

While she spoke, Andros's shadow once again took solid form, all black and its soulless black eyes with flecks of golden hidden in it. The shadow towered over Andros and curled its fist, then punched Andros's cheek. The shadow raised its fist, punched again, and again. All over the arena, the spectators began cheering and whistling.

 _She's a natural._ Maven regarded the princess' obvious delight in winning. _Cal's right; her fighting style leans more on unpredictability of her shadows._

Then, Andros's shadow disappeared. Alix charged towards her opponent, jumped high and made a show as if she would kick him, but she landed deftly on the floor behind Andros. Despite the shadows detaining him, Andros could still turn his head to search for the princess. She smiled, flicked her index finger upwards, and the shadow tentacles threw Andros up into the air, catching him unaware once again.

Maven sighed and closed his eyes. _This match is over before it began._

"Yield!" Andros shouted over the shadows holding him down. "I yield! Get them off me!"

Alix nodded and the tentacles disappeared, leaving her Eagrie opponent panting and sweating. She offered her hand to him. "Are you all right?"

"I will be." Andros continued panting, but still had the energy to grin. "I knew where those shadows of yours would come, but I simply had no time and power to stop all of them at once."

"Ah, the joy of outnumbering our enemies. Prince Tiberias ought to bring that idea to the generals at the war front." She looked at the prince in question and winked. "Either way, it was still an amusing fight, if not ended so early."

"Don't worry, I would train harder."

Rane Arven congratulated the two fighters with a small nod and moved on to the next match. "Oliver, Atara, please take the arena."

* * *

Hours after the session was over, Maven still failed to come close to Alix.

He returned to his chambers, moodier than usual, slumping on his great bed with his arms and legs sprawled out. He kicked his boots off and decided to take a nap, when his mother marched right into his room without as much as a knock. Grumbling, he greeted her, watching her taking a seat on the purple velvet couch, her eyes observing him.

"You are scheduled for a meeting with Lord General Laris at dusk," she told him, daintily looking at her long nails. "I see you are not yet prepared, Maven."

"That is today?" he grumbled again, collapsing on the bed. "I was sure that would be tomorrow."

"It was, until he arrived with some of his brood in tow. You've met Oliver today, yes?"

"I did."

"Dress up then, Maven." The queen bound to her feet and dusted off her navy blue skirts. "Coriane's son is already waiting for you downstairs."

He finally stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. He did not need to move; some of the manservants would come once the queen was gone. "Very well. I hope Father keeps Lord Laris to himself, and Cal to Oliver."

Later, Sentinel Marinos and Sentinel Provos escorted the prince towards the River Hall, a blue-green tower that was adjacent to the Hall of the Sun. It was connected to the main residence through a long hallway of diamondglass, beneath it the small streams from the Capital River rushed. The tower itself was not particularly high, only as large as a Silver lord's mansion, but the paint glowed iridescent against the late sunset and the river below. According to the histories, one of the earliest Calore kings commissioned the River Hall for his Osanos wife, a nymph who had drowned the whole arena during her Queenstrial. Because of this, House Osanos grew prouder than ever, grooming their daughters to become queens one day.

But this generation, House Samos conquered them all. Maybe one day Cal would erect a tower for Evangeline. The very thought made Maven shudder.

He crossed the hallway with little attention to his surroundings. He could almost hear his father's bark of laughter with the general, a middle-aged man who wore ribbons and medals wherever he went.

"You're almost late, Mavey." Cal approached, grinning at his brother.

"Better late than never. What did I miss?"

"Oh, just Father meeting the rest of House Laris and inviting them for dinner. What took you so long to come here?"

"You know, I needed time to dress and contemplate whether I would like to spend the rest of my evening with the general." Maven let out a dramatic sigh, which elicited laughter from Cal.

"Let me tell you a little secret." Cal scooted closer to his brother and whispered in his ear. "House Lerolan has invited Alix for dinner in their summer house, not so far from the Grand Garden. If you want, you could skip all these formalities and go there instead. I am sure Father wouldn't mind, seeing as how you're keeping the close relationship of Norta and Piedmont."

"Alix with the Lerolans, hm?"

"Quite so."

"And who would come with her?"

"Few of her Guards for sure, and Ptolemus, too."

Maven did a double take, immediately glaring at the name. "Ptolemus? What for? Since when did he become interested in the affairs of the kingdom?"

"Have you not heard that Ptolemus now escorts Alix anywhere?" Cal blinked, earnestly surprised.

"I know that, but I didn't expect him to be dining with House Lerolan. That would be the last thing he would want."

"It doesn't matter. Alix and her entourage would be heading out in just a few minutes. Would you like to go or not?" Cal spoke like a determined young man, willing to let his brother leave an important event only to spend time with a less significant dinner. But Maven had done the same to Cal, when he often sneaked out at night to go to the Red villages, speaking with the Reds, _acting_ like a Red. It was dangerous, but neither King Tiberias nor Queen Elara found out. Now, Cal was determined to do the same to Maven.

"All right." Maven sighed, somehow afraid to incite his mother's wrath for sneaking. "I know you could distract Father and General Laris for the rest of the evening, but Mother—don't give her a reason to prod. She doesn't really do it often; just don't give her a reason to. If she asks, tell her I am with Mareena."

Cal nodded. "You're on."

* * *

Tonight seemed promising, at least to Alix.

When the last of the sunset rays disappeared to the horizon, she proceeded to prepare for the dinner with House Lerolan. She had dressed herself in one of her finest yet simplest of dress: its golden skirts touched the floor, the laced long sleeves warming her skin, a red-orange necklace and earrings served as ornaments, which had been gifts from Belicos himself during her seventeenth birthday. Her hair was pulled up into a thick bun, held back from her face with a silver tiara brimming with the same red-orange jewels.

When Ptolemus arrived at her door, she was satisfied by the surprised look on his face, obviously stunned on how she looked tonight.

"Lord Lerolan has surely made friends in high places," Ptolemus murmured as he escorted her out of the room and towards the parking area, where the transport awaited. Behind them, four Guards from Piedmont followed, among them Guard Novara, the princess' firma cousin. "Has House Lerolan been ambassadors to Piedmont for such as long time?"

"Not for too long," Alix answered, her eyes on the road. "When Queen Anabel Lerolan grew into power, she raised her family along with her, appointing them as high as counsellors in the war council and ambassadors to our kingdom."

Ptolemus nodded, looking thoughtful. For the event, he wore a black military frock coat with silver buttons, grey trousers, and black boots. He aimed for a simple look, an _innocent_ look, and he looked well in it, his handsome feature definitely a bonus. Beneath his coat was an iron belt, in case things got suspicious and he needed to protect the princess, even though he was sure she needed no protection. With four Guards and shadows everywhere she could use, Ptolemus was no more than an ornament in her entourage.

"Has Norta ever had a Samos queen?" Alix asked, curious.

"Once, a few generations before Queen Anabel, if I remember correctly." Ptolemus brimmed with pride for his family as he narrated. "Our house has always been front-runners in the Queenstrial and one of the largest, with sprawling family trees and wide connections with other houses. Almost every Queenstrial, we have greater chances in winning."

"And that is because of your iron mines?"

"We own all the iron mines in Norta, digging them out, fashioning weapons of war. All guns and tanks come from our lands."

 _A scary notion_ , she reminded herself. _Often I forget that he is capable of killing me without a second thought._

"But we cannot all be monsters, can we?" Ptolemus chuckled, interrupting her line of thought. He looked down at her, black eyes meeting her golden ones. "Most cousins of mine are softies, refusing to be soldiers, instead staying at home and making allegiances with other houses."

"Surely, no one has mentioned that House Samos is a house full of monsters," Alix quipped back, smirking as her escort's grin widened. "And you do not seem to be in denial."

"I am aware that many of the houses think of us as brutes, hunters, and monsters; but anyone would do whatever it takes for the best of the family."

"Yes. I understand that."

"It takes a toll on us, too," he conceded, leading the princess out of the building and into the fresh night air. Even from afar, he could already see the transport, a contraption of black metal and screws, all an easy subject to his abilities. "Evangeline made sure she was the perfect candidate for the Queenstrial at an early age."

Alix stopped, giving him a bewildered look. "Evangeline?"

"She's a perfectionist, my little sister, and she wants to be the better than our father ever imagined she would be." A shadow of sadness crossed Ptolemus's face, revealing himself to be a brother concerned for his only sister, watched her succumb to her ambitions of getting better. He taught himself how to be perfect, too—to be seen as the aggressive and dauntless commander in Archeon, to be feared by everyone who knew him. This was a moment of weakness for him, and he immediately composed himself and smiled at the princess.

"What girl does not dream of becoming queen anyway?" Alix put her hand on the magnetron's arm, comforting him. "In our world, everyone dreams of becoming a queen."

He raised his brow. "Even you?"

She laughed. "Even me."

"You would make a fine queen, Your Highness." Ptolemus stooped to kiss her gloved hand, his eyes locked on hers.

Suddenly, another voice interrupted them. "We all know being queen can be quite tiresome."

The magnetron raised his fist, ready to attack, had not his eyes fell on the figure approaching them. Prince Maven had been waiting for them beside the transport and walked towards them to greet the princess. He was frowning, his blue eyes looking darker out here in the open field. When it registered to Ptolemus that the stranger was actually the prince and meant no harm, he cleared his throat and dropped his hand. He had almost sent thousands of iron spikes to pierce the prince.

"Maven, what are you doing here?" Alix went to him, dumbfounded. "Why are you dressed so formally?"

"I heard Belicos Lerolan invited you for dinner."

"He did. So?"

"So, I am escorting you there." Maven glanced over her shoulder to look at Ptolemus, who kept his mouth shut though his eyes burned like coals. "It would only be proper if the Prince of Norta escorts the Princess of Piedmont, right?"

She shook her head. "I thought you are supposed to meet Lord General Laris with King Tiberias?"

"Ah, so Cal filled you in about that? I asked permission and was allowed to come with you. Now—" He offered his arm and the princess reluctantly accepted it. "Shall we go before we are too late for dinner?"

"Wait, what about—"

"Lord Ptolemus could stay behind. I can take it from here," Maven insisted. "Perhaps Lady Evangeline would want some company tonight, seeing as my brother is occupied by the generals from the front."

What Alix feared to turn out into a fight, with Ptolemus's pride and temper against Maven's arrogance, ended with the magnetron's sigh of defeat and smallest of smiles to her. He bowed, accepting defeat, accepting that he dressed for nothing and would spend the rest of the night brooding.

"Have a pleasant evening, Your Highness. I hope we could continue our conversation some other time."

For the first time since he became her escort, Alix felt dismal. She nodded and said, "Good night, Ptolemus."

And all Maven could do was frown at the unusual bond between these two.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hello, everyone! I am back with a fresh update! It has been quite a while, though I do try to update as soon as I can. I would like to take this time to especially thank the increasing number of readers this story is getting. Thank you all for taking time to read what I am enjoying to write. Truly, words cannot express how great it feels to write stories from your favorite novels, including Red Queen of course!

Moving onwards, Maven finally gets the spotlight. And ooh, Mavey's getting jelly regarding Ptolemus and Alix. Better watch out, Tolly!

* **QueenRose44** \- Oh, thank you so much! Mavix ftw!

* **Melanthra** \- I am really looking forward writing Ptolemus's character. He is an easily detestable in Red Queen, but I was intrigued. Then King's Cage came and voilà—I totally love the little insight we have of him. All thanks to the Evangeline chapters, that is.

* **Sophie** \- Aww, little Cal going around the palace wondering when he could have a little sister, too. In my opinion, Cal would have made a very good (albeit somewhat _very_ overprotective) older brother. We cannot deny that he is a good brother to Maven, so why not to a little sister? ;)

* **Savanna-chan123** \- Don't worry! As the story progresses, we will get to meet Alix's brothers. Each one would have a different personality and background (which would be quite a challenge to make them as engaging as possible). Most of her family background would be revealed more as the story goes on, so there would be answers soon! Thank you for reading!

* **LovecraftXx** \- If it's Ptolemus/Alix, would it be Ptolemix, Alemus, or simply Tollix? Okay, those sound weird, but hey! You're the Ptolemus/Alix shipper around here. LOL

* **QueenGenius** \- Thank you very much! I would love to write more!

* **Mack** \- Yes, we all love Maven, don't we? Such an interesting character. I wished Aveyard could have given us a Maven perspective in King's Cage. What I would give for an Elara chapter, too! I really wanted to know what's going on in her mind when she's creating Maven. (T_T) Anyway, I will leave my rant here. Thank you for reading!


	13. House of Oblivions

**Chapter 13**

 _ **House of Oblivions**_

* * *

Red-orange lights flickered on the boughs of the cedar trees, which flanked the road towards the Lerolan's summerhouse. The transport creaked as it moved, metal clanking against metal. If Ptolemus had been here, he would have made the journey more comfortable.

Alix sighed as she remembered leaving her magnetron escort behind, feeling a bit disappointed for not having that conversation going. She looked out of the window, immersing herself in the beauty of the lights that reminded her of fireflies in spring. Each tree had dozens of lights glimmering, while the place itself smelled heavily of the fragrant trees. With the dark blue night sky and orange lights, she found the place warm.

"Why is he always with you?"

She blinked, almost forgetting that she had someone else with her. Without turning around, she answered, "Ptolemus is my escort. I am sure your mother already informed you."

The temperature rose inside the small cabin. Maven bristled, but his voice remained low. "Why Ptolemus of all people?"

"Go ask your mother." She gritted her teeth. _How should I know?_ She minded her own business after the Queenstrial when suddenly, Elara cheerfully announced that the Samos heir would be her escort throughout her whole stay.

Maven let out a small sigh and let the conversation end at that.

The transport came into a stop in front of the mansion. It was a large residence, with tall circular pillars and domed roofs. Following the pathway was a short flight of stairs and double doors. Banners in the colors of House Lerolan flanked either side of the entrance. The lights from before changed into blazing torches, held high in black iron sconces on the house's walls.

Guard Novara opened the transport's door, first assisting the prince, then his cousin.

"Your Highnesses!" Belicos Lerolan climbed down the stairs. He wore smart robes of orange silk, Piedmont silk no doubt, and trimmed with red. He bowed to the two young royals, at first surprised to see Maven and not Ptolemus. "Quite a surprise to see you here, Prince Maven. Did something happen to Lord Ptolemus?"

"I am afraid he would not join you tonight," the prince answered, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. Everyone sounded fond of that silver-tongued devil. "Shall we come inside?"

"But of course." Belicos laughed at himself and led the way towards his house.

Inside, paintings of the family's most notable members filled the walls. Red carpet covered the entire floor, polished tables and furniture smartly arranged to the side, making the place spacious at first glance. And it _was_ spacious; it had more space than furniture.

Alix observed the paintings as they passed, a little interested about the persons on them.

"Alder Lerolan," Maven whispered in her ear. "He was the General of the Shield Legion during my great-great grandfather's reign. Considered one of the best." As they passed more paintings, the smile grew wider on his face. He pointed towards a large painting that dominated the wall before the grand staircase.

The princess knew her at once. "Queen Anabel."

Maven nodded. "You know her?"

"Only from stories." She shrugged. Her eyes stared at the beautiful oblivion queen with dark hair and bright amber eyes. In the painting, the previous queen wore her cream military uniform, her chest pinned with black, gold, and red medals. Her crown was magnificent, adorned with colorful stones and the barbs twisted to form a small fire.

"Your Ladyship?" Belicos called from atop the staircase as he gazed down at them. He chuckled and gestured with his hand. "Dinner awaits in the balcony."

The royals followed, leaving Anabel's painting in the dimness of the room. Belicos escorted them through halls and finally, they reached a wide balcony that overlooked the Grand Garden. Again, torches were around, illuminating the setting into a red-orange glow.

Some members of the family waited there, his wife included, a greenwarden originally from House Welle. She bowed—all quiet and demure and beautiful, unlike her cousin Heron. Behind her, a young man stood up from the long table and approached.

"My nephew, Jairus," Belicos said.

"It is an honor to meet you, my lord and lady." Jairus was at the same height as Maven, brown-haired like the rest of his family, but with the green eyes of his mother.

Alix smiled at once, thrilled to meet someone new. She shook their hands instead of letting him kiss her hand, and took an eager step forward. "Good evening. Jairus Lerolan, I presume?"

"Yes," the oblivion answered, slightly laughing. "Lerolan on my father's side, and a Viper on my mother's. A bad combination I suppose."

"Not at all," Maven chimed in, shaking his head. It was only natural for High Houses to intermarry with one another, to make allegiances stronger, to produce the most talented sons and daughters for the war.

"Come, let's have a seat." Belicos kissed his wife on the cheek and assisted his guests to sit in front of each other. He and Jairus were on either side of the princess, while his wife sat quietly on the prince's left, too quiet to engage him in a conversation.

Maven noticed the unoccupied seat at the head of the table. "Are we still waiting for someone?"

Silence filled the balcony, which the Sentinels and Guards interpreted as a threat. All twelve of them—six from both Norta and Piedmont—took their posts around the place, standing alert and close. Guard Novara placed himself directly behind his cousin, somehow relieved that they were located in an open space, where his firma abilities could reach easily into the earth.

"Oh, dear me," Belicos exclaimed. He sensed the apprehension of the Sentinels, stood up, and bowed a little. "I forgot to inform you, Your Highnesses, that someone else would join us tonight."

 _That better not be Ptolemus_ , Maven thought, glowering. Behind him, a Sentinel snickered. He looked over his shoulder and noticed his own cousin, a Merandus, reading his mind. The prince frowned and thought, _Shut up_.

Belicos excused himself for a while and disappeared into the hallway.

"How long have you been in Summerton, Lord Jairus?" Maven asked formally, his blue gaze measuring Jairus's green one. The oblivion did not look like the fight Cal and Ptolemus were. _Perhaps he's aiming to be a diplomat, like Belicos._

"I only arrived with the rest of the family entourage yesterday, Your Highness," Jairus said. "We are sorry to hear the loss of our girl, though we wholeheartedly congratulate Prince Tiberias on his betrothal to Lady Evangeline."

Maven shuddered at the mere mention of his brother's betrothed. _Why Evangeline of all people, Cal?_

Alix turned to the oblivion on her right. "Would Hunter and Trey join us tonight?"

"I think so, Your Highness," Jairus answered after sipping water. "But their babysitters find them too much of a force to be reckoned with." He looked across the table and smiled at his aunt.

"They should be here in a few minutes," Lady Diantha Welle said. She reached out and touched the empty vase that sat at the center of the table. With a simple tap, golden flowers with bright green leaves and vines sprung into life. "Their father becomes most aggravated with their mischiefs. He worries that they might ruin dinner."

"Oh, it's nothing to me," Alix quipped.

"Children are children," Maven said. "I am sure Lord Belicos remembers how Cal and I were such whirlwinds when we were younger."

"I can attest to that."

The voice came from the hallway. Belicos returned, his twin sons holding his hands. But who caught everyone's attention, Maven and Alix most especially, was the tall woman who accompanied Belicos.

She was an old woman, her dark hair already turned into silver over the years, though her amber eyes remained as bright as they were in her youthful days. Lines found way to her forehead and corners of her mouth, which was curled into the smallest of smirks. Her movements were quite slow and rigid, but she remained standing so straight and her head held high. She wore a crimson gown, made with thin lace, as if the cold night was nothing to her.

Maven abruptly pushed himself off the table, his mouth gaping. "Nanabel…"

Anabel Lerolan, queen to King Tiberias the Fifth, smiled warmly at her youngest grandson. "Maven, what a pleasant surprise."

" _You_ surprised me by coming here!" He ran towards her and embraced her like an excited little boy. He towered over her, though, even in her sixties, the old queen stood tall like the military general that she had been before.

She patted his head fondly, ruffling his ebony hair. "Where's your brother?"

"Back in the palace, entertaining Lord General Laris and the rest of House Laris." He led her to the table as Alix rose from her chair and approached. "Grandmother, you remember Princess Alistrine of Piedmont, don't you?"

The queen's eyes gleamed as she smiled and held out a hand. "Of course, Alix, how wonderful you're here. I most especially remember your grandfather as a fellow legion general."

Alix shook the offered hand. She did not want to talk about warfare at the dinner table, but she had no other choice. She smiled pleasantly at the old queen. "I heard his time as general was exceptional."

"The soldiers feared him," Anabel remembered. She took the seat at the head of the table and clasped her wrinkly hands together. "And he was a powerful wraith."

"Nanabel," Maven interrupted, "what brings you here in Summerton?"

"I was supposed to attend the Queenstrial, but as you may already know, my health is not as it was back then. I stayed behind in Delphie, the Lerolan family home, until the physicians allowed me to travel here. Though I am quite late, I hope I could meet this fiancée of yours, as well as Cal's." Her amber eyes went from Alix to Maven, then back to the princess−as if she was testing the waters.

Maven choked on his wine. "My fiancée?"

"I watched the Queenstrial of course." Something mischievous glinted in Anabel's eyes. "Everyone keeps me up-to-date with all the events."

"Mareena would be delighted to meet you," the prince agreed, a strange edge to his voice.

Formal introductions commenced as Jairus also went forward to greet his grandaunt. Diantha led her sons to kiss their grandmother on the cheek, before Hunter and Trey snatched their hands from hers and ran to the princess. They hounded her again to play with them, bouncing and pulling at her sleeves, much to Diantha's horror. They begged for the shadow wolf again, promising to be good boys, crossing fingers above their hearts.

"As you wish, little lords." Laughing, Alix swirled her index finger in the air. The flames from the iron sconces danced, and for a while there, Maven thought she had gone from being a wraith to being a burner. Shadows beneath the flames rushed towards the center of the balcony, first pulsing and curling like smoke, then emerging to take form of two black wolves with golden eyes. Hunter and Trey squealed in delight, chased after the shadow creatures, until Lord Belicos himself called one of their nursemaids to take the twins back to their bedroom.

"You spoil them," Maven muttered in Alix's ear as the twins scuttled out of the balcony. The wolves disappeared when the boys were out of sight.

"What news from Piedmont, Princess Alix?" Anabel inquired, being serious. Though she was Queen of Norta no longer, a title she did not want Elara Merandus to inherit, she was still concerned with the affairs of her country and often asked for news from Belicos.

Red servants then arrived to serve the dishes.

"We are currently supplying Norta its grains, wheats, barley, oats, and rye," Alix counted them off. For once, she was glad she listened to her brother Victor's ramblings about their kingdom's resources. Her own great-grandmother was a greenwarden, who spent most of her time turning fields into groves.

"And soldiers?" Anabel's eyebrow rose.

"Conscripted every end of the month," the princess said, familiar of the operations by heart. She watched a Red butler serve roasted meat in front of her. Her stomach grumbled. She feared the queen might have heard it. "Right now the conscription age starts from eighteen, same as Norta, but I fear my lord father might lower it if the war doesn't slow down in the next few months."

"Which one of your brothers attends the war council?"

Maven cleared his throat. "Grandmother…"

"These are matters of the kingdom, Maven." Anabel gave her grandson a hard look, one that said no one should mess with her. When the prince bit his lower lip and slumped back to his chair, she turned her attention back to the girl. "Well? Which one?"

"Umberto and Francis," Alix answered. Upon the mention of her brothers, she immediately remembered how much she missed them. _Hum for his temper, Frank for his mischief._

"So I see." The old queen nodded.

"Can matters of the kingdom wait later?" Maven interjected again, seeing the discomfort in Diantha's face. Even Jairus avoided eye contact, not too keen on discussing warfare. "We are in the middle of a pleasant dinner, Grandmother."

Anabel pursed her lips, but said nothing. Sometimes she wished Maven's mother were not Elara Merandus. She disliked the whisper long before Elara was queen.

Alix tried to catch Maven's attention, to keep him from interrupting the queen, but her efforts were futile. Instead, she tried to distract everyone by turning to Jairus. "The girl from the Queenstrial, she is your sister?"

"Oh, yes, little Cleo." Jairus's green eyes went to the prince. "It was a shame she didn't win the Queenstrial."

"When she grows older, I am sure she would attract a better crowd of suitors," the princess assured him. "She's a pretty girl, too young for Cal, but she would be a beautiful lady some day. How come she's not here with us?"

"She remains in the Hall of the Sun," Belicos answered. "It seems today's training had worn her out."

That was true. Rane Arven had pitted the twelve-year-old oblivion against Evangeline Samos, who was one of the undefeated champions in their training, a little group that consisted of Cal and Tirana Osanos.

A few more idle conversations followed, mostly initiated by Belicos and Alix. Maven would offer his opinion every once in a while, drinking his wine but never losing composure. As the night went on, more servants continued putting food on the table, and Jairus delved himself on the feast, while Diantha remained picking her food and eating only vegetables.

When Belicos called for the musicians for a dance, all Queen Anabel could do was watch.

* * *

The musicians came all the way from Archeon, often performing during plays. But tonight, they came with the queen from the capital city to make music again—this time, for a dance.

Prince Maven invited the princess, offering a hand, smirking deviously. With a sweep of her golden skirts, Alix accepted and strode onto the center of the balcony with him. Maven placed his hand on the right places, one hand holding Alix's and the other pressed against the curve of her waist. He almost blushed; her gown was too thin and he could feel the heat of her skin against his palm. He tried not to gulp, but Alix already knew and tried to hide her smile from their oblivion audience.

It was a slow, romantic music played with a combination of keyboard and violin. Sounding so softly, it might be mistaken as a lullaby for children. Belicos closed his eyes and listened to the melody, hand clasped with his wife.

Maven leaned to whisper, "Has anyone ever told you that you look beautiful in that gown?"

"Oh, don't start with me." Alix rolled her eyes. She matched his steps with her own. The song was unfamiliar to her, thus she let the prince guide her.

"No, truly," he insisted, his voice getting lower, huskier. "You do look beautiful."

She looked at him, searching for that mischievous smirk, but there was none. Instead, his blue eyes reflected the red-orange fires from the torches. Only then did she realize how much she missed him, their petty arguments and childish name-callings. Ever since the Queenstrial, she had been distant to him, the prince betrothed to a stranger. Cal had enough time to see her, not too occupied with his betrothed. But Maven? He seemed close to Mare already that Alix dared not come between them.

Her eyes turned elsewhere, her heart pounding in her chest. "Very well, a compliment would not harm."

"Does Ptolemus compliment you often?"

 _How did we go from looking beautiful to Ptolemus very quickly?_ She opened her mouth to answer, but did not know what to say.

"Does he treat you well? Speaking respectfully to you?"

"Of course he does. He knows who I am."

"Did it ever cross your mind that maybe Ptolemus is only doing this for appearances?" Maven hissed as he twirled her in time with the music. His hand rested once again on her waist and they continued dancing. "Everybody knows House Samos plays to win—first Cal's Queenstrial, and now you."

"You are speaking nonsense."

"It's the truth!"

"Ptolemus escorts me because your mother asked him to do so."

"And do you know why he agreed? Because he sees the Piedmont crown behind you! Capturing you means one step closer to the throne." His grasp on her tightened, heat pooling in his palms. "Imagine Evangeline as Queen of Norta and Ptolemus a Prince of Piedmont—"

She laughed disdainfully, letting her pride take over. "Him, a Prince of Piedmont? You are a bad jester, Maven. Do you really think I would fall for such trifling efforts? He might be Silver, but he's not royalty. No amount of tetrarchs, iron mines, or trials would make him more royal for a throne—just like Evangeline and Mareena." She stopped herself from saying: _just like your mother_. It would have been a personal blow to him.

"You're too proud of yourself," the prince muttered.

"Why ever not? I have something to boast after all. Those who have nothing must speak of nothing." She tried to take her hands from him, to end this stupid dance and probably just head back to the palace.

But Maven did not allow her to go. Instead, he pulled her closer until his face was merely inches away from hers.

Still, she tried to resist. "Let me go."

"Promise me you will not let Ptolemus take advantage of you," he whispered, resting his chin against her silver hair. He inhaled lavender from her hair. "You must promise me that if he does something wrong, if he ever mistreats you, you will _tell_ me."

"And then what?" she mumbled against his shoulder.

"Then I would show him never to treat you as such," he swore. "I would not let anyone take you from me, Alix."

She feared his words, his _confession_. She tried to wriggle out of his embrace, to run away from all this. Despite her efforts, her own body did not move. It was as if her body enjoyed the closeness she shared with the prince, which felt safe and secure in his embrace. She missed him more than words could say, but she would not tell it to anybody, not even Fiore. She was afraid of her own confession, fearing that the words might slip wrongly from her mouth.

"What about Mareena?"

He seemed unfazed. "What about her?"

"You're betrothed to her."

"I can override a few simple words."

Her eyes widened as she stared at him in disbelief. "You swore in front of all the High Houses!"

Maven shook his head and pulled her again into his arms. The musicians still played their song, even though the dancers were not dancing any longer. "I will find a way."

For a moment there, the lie sounded sweet. Alix closed her eyes and let herself melt into the warm embrace, holding the prince close to her, savoring her time with him. Once they return to the palace, they would return to their original roles. Perhaps Maven would be too busy escorting Mare. Perhaps Alix would not see him often. So she indulged herself for now, ignoring Belicos Lerolan and his family.

Queen Anabel's index finger gestured for Belicos to come closer to her. With a sly smile, she whispered, "Now this just made her the next Queen of Norta."

* * *

Dinner ended an hour after midnight. The queen had long retired in her bedchambers, as advised by her physician that she must not overwork herself, for her health was already fragile. Belicos led his wife and nephew as they escorted the two royals out of the house, with a dozen Sentinels shadowing their steps. The black transport awaited outside, and they all parted with formal thanks and handshakes.

"Please tell Hunter and Trey I would play with them some other time," Alix reminded Diantha, clasping the greenwarden's soft hands.

"They would be excited to know that." Diantha smiled. Her green skirts swept the ground as she curtseyed, as graceful as a swan. "Be careful on your journey back, Your Highness."

Maven approached Jairus. "Perhaps you would like to join us for training at the palace? Andros Eagrie and Oliver Laris recently joined us."

"It would be an honor to me," Jairus said, grinning. "Thank you, Prince Maven."

With a wave of their hands, Alix and Maven entered the transport and left the Lerolan residence.

They spent the next few minutes in complete silence, except for the rumbling of the engine and the heavy footfalls of the Sentinels who followed behind the vehicle. The night air blew colder, the skies a darker shade of blue. But the stars continued twinkling, thousand silver dappling the skies. As they rounded the Grand Garden, guarded by few Security officers, they could see that the Red shops were closed, the fountains not working, and the streets abandoned. Some of the officers saluted to the Sentinels, tried to engage them in a friendly conversation, but the Sentinels were hardly interested in idle talk in the middle of the night.

After another turn towards the palace, Maven noticed something in the darkness and grabbed Alix's hand. She gasped, surprised by his sudden actions.

"What's going on?"

"I have an idea." He smirked and poked his head out of the window. Calling Sentinel Merandus over, he whispered something in his cousin's ear that had Merandus nodding thoughtfully.

The Sentinel, whose ash-blond hair was visible behind his black mask, shared a few words with the driver of the transport.

Alix narrowed her eyes at the prince. "What are you doing?"

"I told you," he said, shifting in his seat, "I have an idea."

"Please don't be stupid at this time of the night."

He snorted. "Come on, where's your sense of fun?"

Before she could respond, Sentinel Merandus opened the transport door and assisted Maven out, then Alix. The other Sentinels looked perplexed, unsure whether to override the prince's decision to explore the outskirts at the lateness of the hour. The Guards from Piedmont, led by Novara, took steps forward and protested. But their princess raised her hand, shaking her head and smiling in reassurance. She would come with the prince, was all she said, and ordered them to stay with the transport, that none of them should follow.

It felt as if the ground rumbled when Novara stepped forward to intervene. "But Your Highness—"

"We have been through this, Guard Novara." She sighed.

"Don't worry." Maven offered his arm to Alix as they turned their backs against the guards. "We would not be out for too long, and it's not too far away. If we need you, Sentinel Merandus would know at once."

Novara cast a suspicious glance at the smirking whisper. "Very well…"

Smiling like excited children, Maven pulled Alix beyond the grove of trees and shops, disappearing into the darkness. He meant to show her something, one of the wondrous buildings Summerton had to offer, until time passed and people forgot about it.

"Where are we going?" Alix clutched her skirts as she tried to run along with him.

They passed more shops until the street ended, blocked by iron fences with overgrown vines. It seemed this place was the farthest end of the street, where no Reds were allowed. Security officers did not bother to guard this one, too insignificant to need guarding.

Maven's hand blazed with flames and he touched the gate's padlock, melting it into a sizzling puddle in mere seconds. He kicked the gate open and grabbed Alix.

When they entered, Alix finally understood what this place was.

 _A greenhouse._

Green vines and little flowers of yellow, red, and purple stretched as far as the eyes could see. A flowery scent hung in the air. Silver shafts of moonlight barely poked through the green roof of interweaving leaves, vines, and branches. Few benches lined up on the sides, broken and rusting; and a large glass table was on the other side, perhaps intended for afternoon teas. A fountain stood at the center of the place, filthy and crumbling. An owl was perched on one of the magnolia tree branches, hooting and blinking its large grey eyes.

Alix gasped at the abandoned beauty. She imagined how beautiful this greenhouse had been when the greenwardens of House Welle tended it years ago.

"What is this place?"

"It used to be a center of occasions," Maven said. He knelt beside the fountain and touched the dry surface. "A previous Calore king had this made for his daughters, princesses who grew to love plants and flowers. They were his only children; their mother died giving birth to them. But even they could not escape the chains of war."

She sat on the rim of the fountain and peered at his face. "Then what happened?"

"Taken to the front, like Cal. As royals, they had the duty to review the troops and familiarize themselves with the operations. It would have been their sixteenth birthday when the bombs from the Lakelands rained down on them. Birthday turned into their deaths."

"I thought burners could not be harmed by explosions," she murmured.

"It wasn't the heat of the bomb that killed them." His voice was cold and unforgiving. "The poison from the bomb did."

"And this place was abandoned after their deaths?"

"Worse." Maven chuckled darkly. "The king killed himself−slit his wrists−in this very place. They say his blood filled the fountain that even the deepest surface turned silver."

Alix recoiled from the rim, disgusted. "Is this your idea of a _pleasant_ evening?"

"Sorry." He threw his head back and laughed. "I figured you don't get out much often that maybe you would like to explore." He dusted his hands off. "In the end, the king's younger brother inherited the throne and no one has ever visited here for decades."

She sighed, recalling his story. How tragic for a father who loved his daughters to kill himself after they passed. "Should we head back?"

"What do you think of House Samos?"

"W-What?"

"House Samos—what do you think are they playing?" He stood in front of her, with all the seriousness of Queen Anabel.

"Why do you keep yourself too worried about them?" She crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. "I could care less about those magnetrons that your father put in such a high place at court. Evangeline as the next queen, married to Cal? That's a nightmare for Cal, but an asset to the kingdom. I hope your brother enjoys those iron mines he will get from them."

"And Ptolemus?" He pressed on.

"Enough about him."

"Mother tells me he aims for your crown," he confessed, his voice hard. "She keeps watch on him, you know, because not all High Houses trust any of those magnetrons."

She stared at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Wake up, Alix! We are preventing them to rise beyond what everyone thinks! We are protecting our kingdoms from being overrun with magnetrons! If you give Ptolemus a chance inside Piedmont, he will kill your parents and brothers, and then marry you."

"How stupid do you think I am?"

"Pretty stupid."

"Well news flash, Your Highness—" she slapped his hands off her—"Ptolemus will not do any of those things, and Evangeline will not dispose of Cal."

"I do wish that," he mumbled. "Either way, we must keep our guard."

"Is this why you pulled me here, to talk about court intrigue? Well it hardly sparks an interest in me, Maven."

"No, it's not that. I just wanted you to be careful." He raked his fingers through his black hair. "I think _something_ might come up in the next few days."

She cocked her head to the side. "What would happen?"

"Never mind. Let's head back."

"Maven—" She pulled at his sleeve and forced him to look at her. "I am worried about you. You have been acting strange lately. If there's something you know, something you want to tell me, then I would listen. I am always here for you, and for Cal. If there's anything I could do—"

"Don't worry." He smiled and embraced her gently, pressing his cheek against the side of her head. "I have everything under control. You will not be harmed, Alix, I promise you."

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : Ah, how I missed the pleasure of updating stories. I welcome myself back to the fandom. It has been quite a while, and though I am a busy person, my never-ending imaginative mind has another idea for a story. This time, I am thinking, I should make a Cal/OC story. I have already "drawn" the details and story, but I would be grateful if you guys would give your opinion about this. What do you think Cal would like in a girl? His beliefs and insecurities? I am really looking forward on writing our beloved Tiberias! But for now, Maven shall remain conquering our hearts!

We get to have Maven and Alix back together since Mare got into the picture. It seems to me that there's a bit of bridge between them: Maven and Mare betrothed, Ptolemus escorting Alix. There's a bit jealousy in both sides, at least. I am so hyped on introducing Queen Anabel so early in the story. Though she did not appear right after the Queenstrial, I like to believe that she has a good relationship with both her grandsons (and therefore would want to watch Cal's Queenstrial). She was a Queenstrial winner too, so there must be some excitement left in this old woman's mind. As for her relationship with Elara "the She-devil" Merandus, it is widely known that Anabel doesn't like her. But it still makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside to think she is still very fond of Mavey. ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

Please do enjoy this chapter. I have more in store for you in the next few weeks. Thank you for reading!

* **LovecraftXx** \- Alemus! LOL. Maybe a bit more of Alemus for you, my friend! We'll see, that's for sure.


	14. Perfect Storm

**Chapter 14**

 _ **Perfect Storm**_

* * *

Unlike the other teens, Alix was not looking forward for another session in Training. She had no desire to flounce around knocking those girls to the ground, or to wear such silly leather jumpsuit. Yet she found herself standing in front of her mirror garbed in the same suit, black from head to toe with the exception of gold-and-silver stripes on the shoulders. That was for reminding everyone that she was of House Caralis. The rest of the suit, well, she had not bothered to find out.

Fiore was fussing over the thick silver hair when someone knocked on the door. The younger ladies-in-waiting, practically children at fourteen years old to sixteen, dispersed around the room and started giggling. The greenwarden, all grown-up in her nineteen years, rolled her emerald eyes and pulled up the princess' hair into a high ponytail.

"Oh, let them enjoy the company of the Sentinels," Alix told her friend, watching Fiore's reflection on the mirror. "It's not everyday they come around to flirt with the maids."

"It's the very notion of flirting that gets me every time, Your Highness," Fiore confided as she finished with the hair and patted the princess' shoulders. She stepped back and sank into a curtsey when the princess rose from her chair. The rest of the ladies-in-waiting bowed as well.

"Good enough." Alix nodded appreciatively at their curtseys. She turned to youngest maid in the room. "Lady Sefiros, would you mind answering the door for me?"

The skin healer beamed and dashed to the door, turned the knob, and came face-to-face to one of the Piedmontese Guards. She bobbed a little curtsey to him.

Alix smiled at her cousin. "Ah, good morning, Guard Novara."

The knight nodded. He had the bright auburn hair and bright grey eyes of House Novara. Queen Margaux of Piedmont was his aunt, and the resemblance was uncanny in terms of the way they carried themselves in great confidence. Bryon Novara walked in a confident gait, like now, as he took a step forward into the room and bowed to his royal cousin.

"Your Highness, I have come to tell you that Prince Maven is here to escort you," said the lead Guard.

"Wh-What?" The smiled died down in Alix's face as Maven himself sidestepped the tall knight, shooting the princess one of his mischievous little smirks. "This is a surprise. What happened to my escort?"

"Commander Samos is a bit indisposed," Maven answered, his blue eyes never leaving hers. He was in the same black jumpsuit like her, striped with red-and-silver on the shoulder and collar. His jet-black hair seemed trimmed at the sides, as the fringes did not reach his ears anymore. He looked neater, younger, more charming.

Her eyebrow rose at him. "Indisposed? Why was I not informed about that?"

He strained to keep his smile pleasant. "I am not sure either. In any case, shall we go together for Training? You and I both know we cannot keep Rane Arven wait for more than a minute. Silences could be quite aggravating when they lose their composure."

The young ladies-in-waiting giggled at the jest about House Arven, but Fiore was not laughing at all.

Neither was Alix. She measured the prince for a while, and then took up the offered arm. With a sigh, she stepped into the sunlight of the residence halls, growling under her breath. She walked in stride with Maven, arm to arm, hip to hip. Her Guards and his Sentinels formed a long stream of armed soldiers, gold-and-silver amidst the sea of red-and-orange.

"I don't remember anything spoken last night that allows you to escort me once more, you Northern Bastard," she hissed in his ear, while her gaze remained up ahead. "What are you up to now?"

"Come now, Southern Softie," he crooned, flashing her a quick smile. "Surely you cannot think that badly of me? I am here to escort you, that's all. Mareena is about to finish Protocol. I have five more minutes to spare for you."

"Oh, so it's you and I while Lady Titanos is indisposed?" She snorted, quite offended. "Where is Ptolemus? I demand to have my real escort rather than a bored prince."

The prince frowned and led her down the wounding staircase. "I already told you that Ptolemus would not be able to escort you for a while. There was a little commotion in the Grand Gardens that needed his attention. As Commander of the City Guard, he does have his duties to fulfill."

Alix snapped her eyes back to him. "What happened? It is not the Scarlet Guard, is it?"

"Definitely not." It was his turn to snort. "Just a little ruckus between a Silver lord and his Red servants. Nothing really new, you see. And Ptolemus−" Merely mentioning the bastard's name tasted like bile in his tongue−"He can handle any fights more than anyone in the whole of Summerton combined."

"Sounds reassuring," she murmured.

The both of them arrived in the arena just as the whole class entered. Maven drank in every inch of the scenery: Elane and Sonya were polishing their hand-to-hand combat, Oliver Laris was fooling around with Tirana Osanos, and so many more Silver teens. His own brother Cal was doing push-ups with only his right hand, while the left was locked behind his back. Feeling a bit stressed already, his hand strayed to reach for Alix's hand.

He never made it. She pounced out of reach just before he could hold her. Keeping his face perpetually composed, Maven's eyes went from Alix's back to the smiling face of Ptolemus Samos−once again keeping watch on their Training session like a bloodhound on the scent. This time, however, the silver-haired bastard was not watching his sister. For today, Maven noted with a scowl, that Ptolemus was out here for the benefit of the Piedmont princess.

Alix approached her escort with a bright smile. "How now, Commander Samos! I was told there was a commotion in the Grand Gardens that needed your quick attention."

Ptolemus took her right hand and pressed a light kiss on her knuckles. His hawkish eyes remained locked on hers in a heated gaze. "Indeed, Your Highness," he breathed against her fingertips. "I am sorry I have to go, and most sorry that I have not the pleasure of escorting you this morning."

"All is well," she reassured him. "Maven escorted me."

"So I see." Ptolemus raised his gaze and landed on Maven. Feeling the intensity of the magnetron's eyes, the young prince moved away and attended to his betrothed. He looked back down on the princess and smiled gently. "Are you not going to prepare, Your Highness? Instructor Arven plans to pit everyone to each other today."

"I have no need for warmups." She all but scoffed, turning back to watch the others practice. "If I am lucky, Arven would spare me from fighting someone."

An amused smile spread across his lips. "Oh? I can see you're confident, Your Highness."

She laughed and gleamed at him. "No, Commander. I just pity anyone who has to lose against me." Then she patted him on the arm as Rane Arven arrived with Theo Provos. She joined the ranks, winking at Cal who laughed quietly in return. She stood behind the broad-shouldered prince, with Maven and Mare a few paces behind her.

Like he always did, Instructor Arven assessed his superiority over them with his silence. Not his ability-negating talents, but _silence_. His dark eyes roamed around the arena, noting that everyone had their eyes down to the floor and their mouths clamped shut. All except Cal and Evangeline, the crown prince and his bride. The two of them, heads of their own lines, stared back at him as if to challenge the unquestionable authority of Rane Arven, the Crown's Executioner.

"Tirana," murmured the pale instructor. The nymph from House Osanos stepped away from her line, waiting for her opponent. Arven was not yet done choosing. His gaze lingered between Alix and Mare.

When the princess felt his eyes on her, she lifted her chin and raised her eyebrow at him.

Arven only blinked and looked past her shoulder. "Prince Maven, if you would please," he whispered.

The rest of the students exit the arena, only leaving Tirana and Maven in place. Alix and Evangeline flanked Cal's sides, standing beside the prince as Theo Provos started to do the wonders of a telky. The entire room trembled and lurched, as another arena rose from the ground. Inside, the two opponents did their best not to trip on their feet.

When Provos was done, he joined Arven in the sidelines. Like a predator, Ptolemus prowled in the shadows and came to stand behind his sister, though half of his attention was directed at the Silver princess not too far from him.

"Who has the advantage?" Arven asked the class. While all hands were in the air, Mare and Alix remained unmoving. The instructor either did not notice or did not want to stir another fight. "Elane?"

"Tirana has the advantage," Elane answered, looking all confident. Her deep blue eyes went from Ptolemus, and then to Evangeline, as she began to explain why nymphs could beat burners everyday. Back in the arena, Maven flushed white from indignation.

"Very good." The silence nodded to his student before he turned back to the battlers. In a very quiet voice, he proclaimed that the match should begin. "Impress me."

Alix watched her childhood friend and rival battle the more experienced Tirana Osanos. Before she knew it, the teens started cheering all around her, goading for Maven to finish the nymph or for Tirana to quench the prince's flames and drown him. Alix glanced over her shoulder and saw Mare, her face bright with excitement, obviously cheering for her prince. On her other side, Cal was tapping his foot impatiently.

And then it happened: Tirana cornered Maven against the wall and pressed her watery dome. The flames sizzled, rising into bouts of white steam in the arena. Alix pressed herself closer to the glass that separated her and the battlers, watching as Maven collapsed to the floor and gasped for air. Tirana stood back, smirking for her victory.

Someone's shadow approached her. Alix did not need to turn around. "So he lost."

Ptolemus nodded, all quiet. "Tirana has always been an experienced fighter. Lord Osanos himself is a warrior, so Prince Maven should have come up with a better than to try and corner her."

"Exactly," Cal chimed in, before he wrapped an arm around Maven and pulled him away for a hushed lecture behind the others.

Back in the arena, Sonya Iral had challenged Elane Haven into a fight. As always, they were even when it came to a close quarters fight. However, when Elane started to disappear from sight, the deadly match began.

The princess was not particularly interested to watch them, though she did notice the sudden change in Ptolemus's demeanor. She would have expected him to be basking, but no−the magnetron was pale and unmoving, his eyes darted to the arena. Her lips pressed into a thin line, confused. When her eyes landed on Evangeline, the Samos daughter seemed to be on the edge as well.

"Rooting for Elane Haven, aren't you?" She peeped up at him under her silver lashes.

"The Havens are good friends of House Samos," Ptolemus explained with a slight chuckle. "You could say that Elane is a childhood friend, much like yourself and the princes of Norta."

She only nodded.

Prince Cal's fight ended quickly as it started. He whittled Oliver Laris and Cyrine Macanthos without breaking a sweat, and came back trudging into the sidelines with a little nod to Mare and a soft smile to Alix. The rest of the class were quiet, torn between nervous and excited at the prospect of another fight. Cal observed them with appreciation, standing straight with his hands behind his back, looking like a soldier waiting for more orders.

Once again, Arven's eyes landed on Alix, barely noticing the tall magnetron by her side.

In retaliation, the wraith princess sneered. _I dare you_ , she thought. _Order me to step into that arena and you're a dead man._

Arven seemed to understand the implication. "Evangeline, Andros," he said instead, turning to the magnetron and eye.

"No," Evangeline snapped.

Every student blanched white when Rane Arven rounded towards her. Even Cal had to take a step back from the silence's sudden quiet rage. "I beg your pardon, Lady Samos?" he whispered sharply.

A shadow fell across Evangeline's face as she smirked at Mare. "I challenge Mareena Titanos."

Alix felt the quick lurch of the shadows around her as Maven immediately went to Mare's defense, with Maven growling at the magnetron that his betrothed was not yet prepared. The pressing crowd pushed her backwards as Sonya and Elane backed Evangeline, and then Cal swept in to aid Maven and Mare, scolding the three girls for their incessant teasing. While everyone was listening to the argument, Alix was studying Ptolemus, to see how he would react to his sister's stubbornness.

Surprisingly, even the big brother was quiet. Ptolemus remained planted on his feet, fists curling at the sides, jaw clenched tight. He listened, he observed, but he never did more to aid Evangeline.

"I challenge you, Mareena Titanos!" Like a child throwing a tantrum, Evangeline stomped her feet and sent dozens of thin daggers across the air, digging mere centimeters away from Mare's feet.

"Then I accept your challenge," Mare answered, mustering the purple-white sparks in her hands.

The two new battlers circle each other in the arena, looking like wildcats ready to pounce.

Arven snapped a finger. "Who has the advantage?"

No one dared to reply, in fear of upsetting Evangeline for choosing Mare over her.

Alix, infuriatingly smug, raised her hand and winked at the magnetron girl. "Lady Titanos has the advantages. She has abilities we are not yet capable of understanding, which makes her all the more dangerous. Besides, iron draws lightning. It should not be long until Lady Samos cooks in her armor."

Cal turned his head away to hide his snicker, while Maven openly chuckled.

Evangeline snarled, baring white teeth. "You're next, Caralis."

Alix raised one perfect eyebrow. "If you insist, Lady Samos."

Inching closer to the princess, Ptolemus leaned down to whisper in her ear. "She would not forget that."

"Ah, yes. Probably not in her lifetime. But consider this: I don't care."

"Yes, Your Highness." The Samos heir stepped back again.

Thus, the battle started between Mare and Evangeline, pitting silver knives and blades against those purple-white streaks of lightning. High above them, the lights flicker on and off. On the ground, razor-sharp spiders quivered. Mare sent her lightning across the marbled floor, covering her and her opponent in a mixture of white rocks and dust. The lights went out, and Evangeline's creatures skittered like insects instead of spiders.

Once more, the class cheered. Maven led the cheering, followed closely by Oliver Laris. Cal was smiling, though his pointed smile was more nervous than earnest. Alix stepped away from the prodding presence of her magnetron escort, laid her hands flat against the glass, and jumped and cheered for Mare.

The dust settled and the lights returned. Everyone saw Mare bearing down on Evangeline, her fingers tightening around the other's neck. Yet Evangeline only laughed at her predicament. The previous metal spiders came back to life, transforming into a massive creature of twisted metal and charred scales. It tackled Mare to the ground, pinned her there, and sliced down to her cheek.

Someone from the sidelines gasped, and Alix saw both Maven and Cal rushing towards Mare. She knew what she had to do: she was in this as much as Maven and Cal were. Moving to her will, the shadows blotted out the lights until Maven pulled Mare into his arms, holding her tenderly.

Alix had the front-row seat to watch Maven take the Red girl in his arms and take her away from the commotion. She felt a sharp pang in her chest, and her stomach churned. No matter how much she teased Maven about being betrothed to Mare, watching them so close together was something else entirely. She dabbed her tears away and joined Cal's side, fending off Evangeline's violent storm.

"You could have killed her!" Cal roared in Evangeline's face, making everyone but her shudder. "You need to control yourself or I would find a way to do so!"

"Coward!" Evangeline shrieked back at him, pounding his chest with her curled fists. In all her strength and training, she was still unable to make him budge. "To show such weakness before your subjects! How disgraceful for a crown prince!"

The blazing anger in Cal's eyes died. He stared at her, aghast and offended.

"That's enough from you." Alix shielded the prince, feeling every inch protective of him. She grew up with him, played tag and ran along the corridors with him, and always watched mesmerized of his burner abilities. She would not let one magnetron insult her friend without a fight. "Two weeks of royal privileges have gotten in your head, Lady Samos. I would rather have you reigned in like a plough horse."

"You! You stay out of this!" Evangeline's angry dark eyes turned to her. Her fingers twitched at her side, curled into another tight fist, and raised into the air. Behind her, the metallic contraption quivered to life. "I did say you are next, Caralis!"

The contraption twisted into a long pointed spear. Its sharp tip was black from when Mare's lightning burned it. The new weapon lurched into the air in a dizzying speed, aimed at Alix's chest in a murderous display.

Even with her agility, Alix knew she could not sidestep that one. Cal's hurried screams were distant in her ears. She heard nothing else, and saw nothing. Nothing but the spear. She stood, wide-eyed, and braced herself for the deadly blow. Her brothers would probably do well without their younger sister.

To her surprise, the spear stopped short, suspended in midair by some unseen force. It might have been Theo Provos using his telky abilities, or Rane Arven using his influence to stop the attack. Yet it was neither the two of them.

Standing tall and frighteningly _angry_ was Ptolemus Samos, his right hand outstretched as if to stop the spear. He was not the charming escort Alix remembered as he stood in front of her, snarling at his own sister. Black eyes were alive with black fire. His fingers moved, and the spear began to shatter. In no less than five seconds, the spear turned into nothing but black metal pins, scattering to the floor.

Only one word from him made Evangeline back down.

"Enough," Ptolemus hissed through gritted teeth.

"Suit yourself." Tossing the rest of her knives, Evangeline bumped her brother's shoulder as she exited the training arena, her footsteps hard and echoing.

At once, Cal was cradling Alix's face in his hands. His red-gold eyes assessed every inch, looking for cuts and bruises, as if she had been the one fighting Evangeline and not Mare. "Are you all right? Does it hurt anywhere?"

She sighed, putting her hand over his to feel his soothing warmth. "I am fine, Tiberias."

"Your Highness." Ptolemus approached, looking all solemn. He dropped to one knee before her and lowered his head. "I sincerely apologize. I ask for your forgiveness about the incident. I swear to you that this behavior would not go unpunished for my sister. I shall tell our father Lord Volo about what happened."

"Or−" Alix stepped away from Cal's comforting touch and glowered down at the magnetron−"you could buy your sister a leash, seeing as even you have troubles controlling her. I would suggest that you accompany the leash with a muzzle, seeing as you have a bitch for a sister, Lord Ptolemus."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hello everybody! Yay for another update! I am sorry it took so long to update, but the hardrive where all my saved drafts for my stories was corrupted. I lost everything and I had to start anew. It's a bit depressing for me, but I do hope I could get back into steady writing as soon as possible.

I missed writing Alix and Maven so much, but for now we focus on so many other characters. Cal, Mare, Evangeline, and yes, Ptolemus. For some odd reason, I am so rooting for this silver-haired bastard that I want to punch myself in the face. Personally, I can't wait to write more about his increasing closeness to Alix while Maven fades away in the background (being all betrothed and all).

I want to sincerely thank everyone for the lovely reviews last chapter. Special mention to _Gabby0529, Edenrose Antionette, Theselectedone,_ _Orella, ErasisMoray_ , and my six wonderful guests. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!


	15. Walk and Talk

**Chapter 15**

 _ **Walk and Talk**_

* * *

House Samos held a family conference shortly after the incident in Training. Seated before the wide mahogany table was Volo, with his fingers knitted together as he leaned back against his imposing chair. On his right was his wife, the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty from House Viper. Larentia took a sip from her wine goblet, while her free hand patted the large head of a black panther around her feet. Evangeline, for once disgraced by her previous behavior, stood before her parents like a naughty child before her elders.

"I am sorry to have heard what commenced earlier this morning," Volo began. His voice came as a whisper, as always, though there was a certain sharp edge to it today. "I warned you not to push your luck with the Piedmontese entourage, most especially now that your brother's position as the escort to the princess is precarious."

"I know that." Evangeline kept her chin head high, but her fists curled behind her back. To keep her composure. To keep her temper from boiling over once more. "I was wrong to lose my temper back there."

Volo's black gaze turned on his son, who was standing all the way back, near the shadows of the doorway. "Was Sentinel Merandus present during Training?"

Ptolemus pursed his lips. "Yes, Sentinels Merandus and Arven."

"Spies of the queen," Larentia muttered as she withdrew her hand from the panther's head. She turned to Evangeline with a frown. "Rumors might have spread by now. There's no stopping those putrid whispers from spreading slanders. Queen Elara would take advantage of the situation."

"Not unless we stop her," Evangeline said.

"And what do you suggest?" Volo raised an eyebrow, fixing her with a challenging gaze. "From what I have heard, Princess Alix was furious. So was Prince Cal. Her Guards from Piedmont would not let this go unpunished. Her brothers would not be best pleased if they hear. What do you suggest to mend this problem?"

Evangeline opened her mouth to speak, but she was at loss for words.

Volo nodded, glowering. "As I thought."

"Hold on." Ptolemus emerged from the shadows and approached his father's table, resting his two palms flat on the polished surface. His equally black gaze bore through Volo's cold demeanor. "I have escorted Her Highness for two weeks. From what I have gathered so far, she has a certain flare in her. Yet deep down, she is just another princess: glamourous and vain."

"So?" Larentia asked.

"So I was thinking that perhaps we could give her something to ease her temper. Some sort of peace offering that she would appreciate. Things princesses usually adore: dresses, jewels."

Evangeline crossed her arms over her chest. "You think she won't see through this?"

"Of course she would," Ptolemus said. "But her pride wouldn't allow her to reject a gift in public. She knows the value of keeping pleasant appearances to the crowd, especially now that she is faraway from home. Alix understands that."

"Then we give her a gift," Larentia said with a slight doubt. She turned to her husband. "Do we have something worthy to present to a princess? She's used to anything sparkling for sure."

"Perhaps we do." Volo stroked his pointed silver beard. "Eve, call one of our cousins. The one freshly back from the Rift. I heard they brought something you're supposed to wear for the Parting Ball. That belongs to the princess now. And you would personally go out there, hand it to her, and apologize to her."

There was a stunned silence in Evangeline's part. She wanted to flare up, but she understood her place and nodded instead. She already had her chance for the throne of Norta. This one, Piedmont's throne, was her brother's one and only shot. She knew she had to make way.

"Yes, Father," she whispered.

* * *

Lunch was to take place in a wide, open balcony in the Hall of the Sun. Four stories up from the ground, it allowed the early afternoon sunlight to spill across the entirety to the balcony, and the warm winds reminded everyone that summer was nearing its end. Young Silvers in grey uniforms occupied the place, occasionally taking drinks from the Red servants, fluttering back and forth in their bright red uniforms. Against the sunlight, their uniforms were ghastly, unpleasant to the eyes.

Alix clutched her head as the pain increased a hundredfold. Here in the balcony, the rays of the sun were like strong beams of light pointed directly at her face. Her eyes hurt, her head hurt, and the increasing noise from the buzzes of the gossiping legionnaires made her want to return to her bedroom and wait until nightfall.

Yet she had her duties. Even though she was only a visiting guest from a foreign country, she needed to be present to show the world how close Norta and Piedmont actually were. Without her older brothers to attend, she had to represent her home country for the time being.

"It would be over soon." Her firma cousin towered over her, using himself as a pillar to shield her away from the offending sunlight. Bryon Novara's bright grey eyes scrutinized every Silver teen in their bland grey uniform, remembering his time at the barracks. "Would you like to have a drink, Your Highness?"

"Might as well." Alix sighed, keeping her body straight and her chin up. Every time someone approached her, she smiled and shook their hand, exchanged few greetings here and there, clinked their glasses together for a toast, laughed at their jokes. In her peripheral vision, she spotted House Samos gathered together like black snakes. With a little demure smile, she turned her heels, pale gown skirts billowing outwards, and approached them.

Volo Samos was the first to notice her. He was wearing a black robe with trailing sleeves that went past his arms. A silver sash went around his waist. Upon seeing her, he dipped into a low, respectful bow.

She smiled down on his bowed head. "Ah, Lord Samos."

"Your Highness." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Well met."

"I see that your family has turned out for support." She nodded to where the magnetrons were huddled closer, all dark and imposing in their dark armor and silver scales. One of them, she noticed, was not silver-haired as the rest of the family.

"My family has always been supportive to each other," Volo answered. His wife stepped from the line and he introduced her. "My wife, Larentia of House Viper. She has come a long way from Lencasser."

Larentia Viper swept the princess an immaculate curtsey, her black silk dress shimmering in a dark green hue under the sunlight. A pair of jet-black wolves accompanied her, seated on their haunches by her sides. "Your Highness," she said, still in her curtsey. "I am very honored to have finally met you. I must say this is my first time to meet a Piedmontese royal."

Alix favored the animos with a smile. "I hope I meet your expectations, Lady Viper. Perhaps you would not believe me, but my brothers are far more dazzling and agreeable in person than I am."

The husband and wife exchanged practiced laughs. Their smiles did not reach their eyes, though there was a strange gleam in Volo's dark eyes.

"Oh, Your Highness, you are already so dazzling and agreeable," Larentia said, running her hands down her skirts. The wolves under her command stayed still. "I can already see my why son wants to escort you so much. You command such a presence, Your Highness."

"Is that so?" The princess had been trained from the moment of her birth to be amiable at all times, thus her smile, no matter how it hurt her cheeks to smile so widely, looked natural on her.

As if on cue, Ptolemus emerged from the crowd, his younger sister hanging off his arm. He wore a black military uniform with a black chain from shoulder to hip, mirroring Cal and Maven's usual sash. He had silver fur on his shoulders, long enough to brush against his exposed collarbone. Beside him, Evangeline was similarly dressed, in a black silk gown and fur-trimmed collar.

Evangeline disentangled herself from her brother and curtseyed. "Your Royal Highness," she said.

"Lady Samos." Alix acknowledged her with a curt nod. She turned her golden eyes on her escort, discerning whether she should ring a storm over their heads. Sensing that King Tiberias's shadow lurched backwards as he laughed with a robust man who could only be General Haven, she decided she should stay regal. "And Lord Ptolemus."

"Your Highness." Ptolemus kissed her hand and lifted his intense eyes to her, never breaking eye contact until Alix herself forced another smile and withdrew her hand from his grasp. He cleared his throat, a slight bounce in his feet. "We are glad to see you here. As it turns out, Prince Cal would be leading his Shadow Legion to the front. They are the first legion to disguise themselves as Red soldiers to break the Lakelander infantry."

"Very smart maneuver," Larentia commended.

Alix turned to where she sensed Cal's shadow. His friends and colleagues surrounded them, among them Oliver Laris from their Training. Maven stood close to his brother, locked in an amiable conversation with a pair of Gliacon shivers.

She turned to Ptolemus. "I suppose you're not joining them?"

"Sadly, no." The magnetron smirked. "I have to stay in Archeon to command the city guard while the prince goes further north to confront the frozen fools. It should all be a matter of time until Norta wins."

"And Maven?" she inquired.

"Travelling back to Archeon with his betrothed, the Lady Titanos," Volo said, gauging her reaction.

"A very exciting notion, I am sure." Alix turned her gaze back to Evangeline, who remained sweetly silent throughout the whole ordeal. If the magnetron girl thought the princess would let the previous assault go unmentioned anymore, she was mistaken. Alix regarded Evangeline with a heated stare. "You seem a bit impassive today, Lady Samos. Are you well?"

Evangeline's black eyes snapped back to her face. Her forced smile was perfect. "I am very well. Your Highness is very gracious to ask," she said demurely, and then sank into another curtsey. "Forgive me for the previous offense to Your Highness. It was out of turn and erroneous on my part. I have humiliated my colors and myself for that. I beseech for your utmost forgiveness."

A near-perfect apology. Alix could feel every Samos inching forward to hear her response. "You are forgiven, Lady Samos. I do understand that pressures of Training can be quite stressful."

Ptolemus let out a soft sigh of relief.

"I thank you," Evangeline murmured before straightening herself.

"As a token of House Samos's respect for Your Highness, we offer you this." Volo gestured for one of his relatives to come forward. A middle-aged man, possibly a brother, stepped from the line and offered a black velvet box to Volo. He opened the lid, revealing a black diamond pendant set in a necklace made of small silver diamonds. Each diamond caught the sunlight, winking and glittering. It was a grand, expensive thing that even his two children gasped at the sight of it.

Alix politely glanced at the offered jewel, though deep inside, she was keeping herself from snatching the thing and hold the diamond close to her face. It seemed real enough, the black surface polished to perfection. She kept her hands to herself.

Volo smiled triumphantly. "A rare black diamond mined from the Samos mines," he explained. "House Samos would be very honored if you would accept this little token of our respect for Your Highness."

"But of course." She smiled at the four of them, standing so close and supportive together like the family they were. Watching them, and even the other Samos cousins behind, she realized that she missed her own family−her boisterous father, her dauntless mother, and her older brothers, a dreadful combination of their parents. She wondered what was happening back in the palace right now.

"We do hope Her Highness is pleased," Larentia said.

"I am, Lady Viper." Alix glanced over her shoulder and beckoned for her firma cousin to come over. The knight in his golden armor under the bright sunlight looked menacing. "Would you please take it to my chambers, Guard Novara? Thank you."

Bryon received the velvet box from Volo Samos and turned his heels to leave. The rest of the Piedmontese entourage remained standing by the walls, among the Nortan Sentinels.

As the firma was exiting the balcony, Prince Maven looked up from his dull conversation with the Rhambos twins and excused himself. He shouldered his way past the crowd and stopped before the magnetrons. Like his brother, he wore another black uniform with silver buttons and sash, golden medals pinned to his left chest.

House Samos dropped into bows before the young prince.

"Your Highness," Volo muttered under his breath.

"Lord Samos." Maven nodded, smiling at everyone around him. When he turned at last to Alix, his smile curled into a smug smirk, one dark eyebrow raised. She answered his inquisitive stare with a little scoff. He laughed at that. "If you would please excuse me and the Princess Alistrine, Lord Samos, for we have so much to talk about."

"I would be honored, Your Highness."

"Princess Alistrine?" Maven offered an arm to her.

"My pleasure, Prince Maven." Alix clung to his arm and turned over her shoulder to smile at Ptolemus. At this angle, she did not see how Maven's smile turned upside-down to a small frown. "Perhaps tomorrow you could escort me, Lord Samos."

Ptolemus bowed low. "Tomorrow it is then, Your Highness."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes in a public place, Maven sighed and pulled the princess away. Together they fended off an army of Silvers rushing forward to start small talks, sidestepped the servants, and vanished under the arched stone exit of the balcony. King Tiberias never noticed, still busy conversing with his friends newly returned from the front. Prince Cal did not notice either, having whisked Mare−oh, Lady Mareena Titanos−to an alcove crowded by potted plants. The two of them seemed to be whispering about something, and Maven was not one to mind.

Then Queen Elara Merandus blocked the exit, dressed in a fine black-and-red gown.

"Where are you off to, dear?" She tipped her head to the side, batting long eyelashes at them.

"Just outside to walk." Maven's hold on Alix's arm tightened. His blue eyes blazed, challenging his mother's authority here, half-hidden in the shadows, with a whole legion of soldiers feasting behind them. One wrong word could be fatal−yet he challenged her still.

Elara ceased her prying and laughed coquettishly. "Oh, very well. Do hurry up, dearest."

Maven shouldered past her, dragging Alix along.

Once they were out of public sight, the prince led the princess down the winding staircase, past a corridor with gilt-edged paintings of the previous Calore kings, across a compact courtyard with a small fountain, and finally, behind the River Hall where the long hallway of diamondglass over the streams concealed them from spying eyes. The sun was still high in the skies, illuminating the blue-green tower and its luminous diamondglass.

"What was that all about?" Alix snatched her arm from Maven, smoothing down her pale gold dress. The previous half-running and half-dragging across the hallways had made pleats on her skirts. "You better have a good reason for taking me all the way here, Maven. It's so faraway from the main hall, and my cousin would be beside himself if he finds out I am gone."

"Relax, you little prissy princess." Maven chuckled, his once blazing eyes now gleaming with mischief. He offered a hand to help her straight up, but only had his hand slapped away. "Like I said, I only want to have a walk with you."

"Oh."

"I heard about the incident in Training, by the way."

"Oh, so we're walking _and_ talking now, are we?"

He threw his head back and laughed again, looking more similar to King Tiberias than Cal ever did. "I suppose you would want to walk and talk, seeing as only walking does sound very dull. Won't you indulge me, Princess Alistrine?"

She glanced to where the imposing Hall of the Sun loomed behind the River Hall. Her shoulders dropped in defeat, and she saw the growing triumphant smile on his face. "Oh, fine," she grumbled irritably, fighting the nagging feeling of wanting to smile back at him.

"Mother was furious when she found out," he confided, intertwining their arms together again. He placed a warm hand over Alix's hand on his forearm. "Said something about the alliance between Norta and Piedmont being thrown away by the future queen. You can imagine how she looked like, because I am not going to describe it."

"I don't want to imagine," she countered.

"So how was it?" The look he gave her was one of concern. He led her around the diamondglass and started down the sloping pathway down the river. "Even Cal seemed very upset about it."

She shook her head. "It was nothing so extravagant. Evangeline pushed too far and I humiliated her in front of her brother and the other students for it. I should like to think all is well now."

"Just like that? No other pranks off your sleeves?" He did not sound convinced. Knowing her for the last ten years, Maven was aware how she liked to pull pranks out of everyone, him included. Their childhood was spent mostly on aggravating and teasing each other. He knew well enough that she was not going back down without a fight.

"Yes, just like that, Maven." Alix did not want to tell him what House Samos bribed her for her forgiveness−that sleek black diamond she could not wait to try back in her rooms. "I don't want to earn the spite of the entire House Samos, especially when their girl would be queen soon enough."

"Oh, that." He sighed exasperatedly.

The pair stopped short when another diamondglass blocked them. It enclosed the whole summer palace, to keep the Silvers inside and the Reds outside, their sniffing noses with them. Maven tugged at her arm and led her towards the left, to where the greenwarden-managed gardens bloomed bright magnolias, roses, bluebells, and everything else. Another ivory fountain sat at the very midst of the artificial beauty.

Alix seated herself on the rim and dipped a forefinger into the cold waters. "How was Mare?"

He remained standing, content on looking down on her and staring at her serene face. "She's fine."

"No traces of redblood left behind?" She kept sloshing with the water, soaking her gloves. Little orange fishes came up to nibble at her fingertips. "None of the Sentinels saw?"

"Almost everyone answers to my mother," he said, shrugging. "They can't say a thing to strangers."

"Ah, that is good then." She pulled her soaked hand back and went back at him. His icy blue eyes never wavered in staring back. Suddenly, the heat rose all around them. "I seem to notice that Lady Titanos grows closer to Prince Tiberias every passing day. I hope you don't mind."

"Me?" Something crossed Maven's usually cool demeanor. A shadow of a doubt. "She's my betrothed, and he's my brother. Whether I like it or not, they are bound to see each other every now and then."

"Then why sound so defensive about it?"

Maven snorted, tearing his eyes off her. "I am not."

She laughed aloud. "Oh, Maven. There's no need to be jealous."

His eyes returned to her. "You don't even know what I am like when I am jealous," he said softly.

That stopped her from laughing. Instead of teasing him further, she gave a pause and observed his expression. Something else was written in his face, something that she could not discern. It reminded her of last night, when she and Maven were at the dark abandoned greenhouse. Like last night, she worried about him, his sudden change of behavior ever since Mare arrived in his life. She knew she was missing a big piece in the puzzle, but Maven was not sharing anything with her.

She reached out for the hem of his sleeve. "Maven, what's the matter?"

He slipped his hand into hers, squeezing gently. "Everything's fine."

"Certainly it is not." Her eyes darkened, the determination in her steady.

"It's just−" He sighed and sat next to her, clutching his head between his hands. Unlike his usual composure and eloquence during state visits and speeches, he was downright speechless right now. Whether it was because of Alix's presence or his ongoing plans with his mother, he could not tell. Rather, he did not want to know the reason. What he wanted was a quiet time with Alix, nothing more.

"Mavey…"

He chuckled, turning his head so that he was peeping up at her, his chin resting on his palm. With his black hair disheveled and falling across his eyes, his lips tugging into another little smirk, it was hard for Alix _not_ to blush.

She cleared her throat and inched away. "Don't get ahead of yourself. It was meant as a tease."

"I never said anything yet, you know," he pointed out, winking mischievously. His problems, which had been turning his brain into mush for weeks now, were forgotten at this moment. He wanted this to last forever−him on this light feeling, with Alix to accompany him.

She leaned down so that her lips hovered above his own. She decided she wanted to tease him further, to see what a little sheltered prince might do. "You're the one forcing the idea, Northern Bastard," she hissed, their noses almost brushing.

Their faces were so close that if Maven were to lift his chin higher, he would finally kiss her. Instead, he curled his other fist and tried to keep his composure. Knowing Alix, it was just a trick. Damn her.

"I am?" he breathed against her lips. His free hand came up to stroke the apex of her cheeks, delighting him to see a silver blush crept across her pale skin. His thumb travelled downward to stroke her chin, teasingly inching closer to her lips.

"Maven−" Alix choked back, half-nervous now.

Then a figure dressed in the purple-and-silver of House Titanos came upon the sight of them: the prince and the princess, seated together on the fountain, their lips mere centimeters away from a sensual kiss. Mare's brown eyes were wide with surprise and confusion. She contemplated stepping forward, but Alix was already turning away from Maven before the prince could even understand what was happening.

The well-trained princess smiled at once, masking her nervousness moments ago. "Lady Titanos! I am relieved to see you looking so well. How are you after the Training session?"

Maven blinked the enchantment away as the princess stood from the fountain to greet Mare. He remained seated on the rim, glowering, watching as Alix diverted Mare's obvious confusion and shock by complimenting the purple gemstones on her dress and the matching silver necklace that Mare wore around her neck. He continued growling to himself−not for Mare's untimely interruption−but for his own recklessness to take Alix away only for _this_.

It was not long before he composed himself and smiled at his betrothed. He slipped an arm around Mare's waist and pressed a light kiss on her brown hair. But his eyes, the sad Merandus eyes, were locked on Alix.

"You came a long way from the Hall of the Sun, Mareena," he told her.

"I, uh−" Mare stumbled in her words, still agitated. Her eyes went from the prince to the princess, to measure whether any of them showed disappointed signs of being interrupted by her. Judging by Maven's soft voice and Alix's unwavering smile, Mare did not intrude on their personal time too much. That, or the both of them were just too trained to mask their emotions. Mare wanted to bet on the latter option. "Queen Elara told me I'd find you here, but I didn't know…"

"Everything is fine," Maven assured her, rubbing the small of her back. He turned to Alix and beamed at her. "Isn't that right, Your Highness? We were just walking."

"And talking," Alix answered, curtseying to the pair. She caught Maven's amused smile and smiled back at him. "Now that Lady Titanos is here, I suppose Prince Maven would not be so bored any longer. I should like to go back to the main residences."

He wanted for her to stay, but with Mare in his arms, he could not. He conceded with a sigh. "Thank you for your company today, Princess Alistrine. It was well-appreciated."

She sank into another respectful curtsey, sweeping her gold skirts across the floor. "My pleasure, Your Highness," she said and turned around to leave them. Her pace quickened as if she did not want to be there in their company, the prince and his bride, his future wife. And Alix was only ever a foreign princess, a childhood friend and rival. She would be forever last in his concerns.

So deep and lost in her own raging thoughts that she did not notice someone else's shadow before her. Alix bumped her face onto the solid surface of an armor, so hard that she heard the metallic clang ringing in her ears. She stumbled backwards a little, but someone took her hand and steadied her back on her own two feet. Eyes closed, she moaned at the thumping pain on her forehead.

"I am so sorry. Are you all right, Your Highness?"

That voice. That honeyed voice of a devil.

Ptolemus Samos shot her a concerned look, one that contrasted his blazing anger just this morning. The meeting with the legionnaires must have ended, now that the commander was back directing the officers around Summerton while he was not escorting the princess. His furs and uniform were gone, replaced by a black polished armor interspersed with silver spikes around the shoulders and belt. He looked more like a cactus, ready to tackle anyone and punch them with holes.

With Alix so close, his spikes melted into smooth silver scales.

"No worries," she said, holding herself up against his strong, muscled arm.

"Where's Prince Maven?" Eyebrows furrowed, the magnetron searched around the area until Maven and Mareena came to his view, exiting the southern gardens together. He understood at once why his princess was alone, now that Maven had his own to take care of.

"I want to get back to the residence halls," Alix murmured, bowing her head. She could feel her tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Because of what, she did not know, but she felt the need to unleash the sharp pang in her chest.

"As you wish, Your Highness." Ptolemus momentarily turned to his army of officers and barked a command that they should keep watch around the Grand Gardens. As he whirled back to Alix, Maven and Mare were close to approaching them. He offered an arm to her. "Ready?"

She took his arm and smiled through the tears in her eyes. It gave the magnetron a shock to see her so vulnerable. Her hand dabbed away the tears, and Ptolemus swiped a thumb under her eyelids. She looked up, eyes wide with surprise.

Just as Maven had done earlier, the magnetron glanced over the princess' head and saw Maven's face darken with contempt. Lips gently pressed against the silver hair, Ptolemus began to lead Alix away from the pair and escorted her back to the main palace.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Whoops! My hand slipped. I actually made another Ptolemus/Alix/Maven tension when all I really planned was to push Alix's relationship with Maven further. Ah, well, no matter. We still get to have them together for a brief moment before Mare had to show up and Maven had to go to the "caring betrothed" mode. It was enjoyable to write all of them at once, including the appearance of House Samos. They really rock in the books!

* **Guest** \- Don't worry! Updates will come here and then. Sorry to make you wait for so long.

* **hifivebuddy** \- Oh, indeed. Alix doesn't understand how Maven really affects her, because she masks it with her vanity and mischief.

* **Guest** \- I also want Maven and Alix together, but... We'll see! :)

* **Margarita effect** \- Thank you very much, dear!

* **Tilney** -Too late, my friend! Too late! You must choose only one!

* **Pigs** \- Thank you! I myself did ship Mare/Maven before the "revelation".


	16. Arrangements

**Chapter 16**

 _ **Arrangements**_

* * *

The black diamond winked under the thin sliver of sunlight that the princess had allowed in her chamber. Seated before the vanity, Alix gathered her silver hair in one fist and pulled it up, admiring the diamond pendant and its necklace inlaid with silver diamonds, equally glamourous, equally perfect. House Samos overdid themselves with their apology; she was pleased to know. At least she knew Volo Samos had some shred of decency where his children had none. Evangeline, at least.

Her ladies-in-waiting had been waiting in the presence chamber when the knock came. Alix watched through the mirror as Fiore went up and answered the calls. She hissed when the sudden morning brightness spilled into her darkened chambers, her head once again pounding in earnest.

"Guard Novara," Fiore addressed the lead Guard. Then she turned her eyes to the brown-haired oblivion standing next to the imposing knight, his sunset-colored robes unmistakable. "Lord Lerolan."

Upon hearing the name, Alix rose from her vanity and discarded the heavy Samos diamond on the table. She had not seen Belicos since that dinner in the Lerolan home almost a week ago. She went past Fiore, ignored her firma cousin, and did not hesitate to held out her hand for Belicos to hold and kiss. She smiled, meeting his amber eyes.

Belicos grinned back, his eyes twinkling. "Your Highness, I bring messages from your royal brothers."

At once her smile faded away. Her thoughts ran as fast as she could, wondering what her brothers had in store for her now. She would be glad to hear from them, yes, but to hear that they were demanding her to come home soon−it was beyond dreadful. It was a dread she hid behind a well-trained mask. Her smile returned, never reaching her eyes, as she sank into a little curtsey to show her gratefulness.

She took the letters from Belicos and watched as Novara ushered the oblivion out.

There were two letters: one from her family, one from her grandfather. Her face paled even more, to see her grandfather's handwriting across the envelope, addressing her as not a princess, not his granddaughter, but as a wraith. She turned over her shoulder to look at Fiore, and the greenwarden nodded in understanding, leading the younger, giggling ladies-in-waiting in another room.

Alix sat herself on the chaise lounge by the window, and opened the curtains wider. She was oblivious to the warmth of the gardens below, her only focus on the letters at hand. Sighing, she chose to open the letter from her brothers first, hoping they bore good news.

" _Sunny, how are things faring in Norta? Victor and I have been restless from the increasing demands of supplies and livestock that the Prairie and Montfort are requesting. Mother has lent us a hand more than a few times. Francis leads the Royal Guard, though your absence seems to have taken a toll on him. He has no other means of amusing himself, much to Mother's chagrin. Father keeps entertaining diplomats and ambassadors, while our good brother Umberto remains stationed at the warfront with the Nortan legionnaires._

 _We are very looking forward to having you home. We heard that the Parting Ball draws near. I know you will be home soon. We miss you, Sunny._

 _Your brother, Rainier."_

Her fingertips brushed where her eldest brother's signature were. She imagined Rainier, despite hounded by his endless work as Piedmont's Lord of the Parliament who scrutinized laws and orders presented to him. It was hard to imagine how hard Rainier found a little time to write this letter to her, but she was glad of his time.

The one she only dreaded, that one thing she was not glad of, was her grandfather's letter. King Umberto the Eighth had been general of his own legion, which her brother Umberto was now leading. Her grandfather had a fearsome reputation, one that instilled fear and awe about wraiths.

She took his letter and glared at the terse handwritten scrawl on the back of the envelope. _To the wraith of House Caralis_ −it read. No royal titles. No affectionate acknowledgements. Just one wraith to another.

" _Alistrine,_

 _With the Parting Ball drawing near I will expect you to come see me. Once you have shown yourself to the King and Queen, you will come to me. I await for your arrival._

 _King Umberto the Eight, of House Caralis."_

Wonderful. She was not even home yet but she already had summons from her grandfather. She did not have to wonder what was running in the old man's head. As extensive as her family was, she knew the quirks of every family member, and knew how to play with them. Like a whisper entering a person's head. Like an eye with the sight of the future. Lord Umberto had coached her and her brother Hum the every complexities of being a wraith. While Hum was already out and enjoying leading his Specter Legion, Alix kept learning in the shadows, and stayed there.

Thoughts running wild, she slumped back on the chaise lounge and sighed. Her hand curled into a fist, and like a theater closing curtains, the entire room darkened as if nightfall. Times like these, when her mind was uneasy, her ladies-in-waiting learned to excuse themselves and wait in the adjoining room. Her Guards did the same, closing the door and standing on the side. Alix could feel everyone's shadows, maids and guards alike, but felt no reassurance at all.

Her grandfather wanted to see her. More than that, he wanted her to _come_ to him. As if that was not already worse.

She tried to gather her wits about her. In no time, her ladies would have to prepare her for another Training session. She had to suffer through the tedious process of getting dressed in that vile jumpsuit. If she had her way, she would stroll down the gardens with her ladies, possibly wandering around the Grand Gardens only to see if the Reds had came up with a new peasant delicacy.

As the thought lingered in her mind, she went to her drawer and deposited the letters inside, adding it to the pile of letters her brothers had sent since she came to Norta more than a month ago. Her brothers were not fond of writing, or used to have her far away from home for so long, that it amused her that they sent letters every now and then.

Looking at her reflection on the vanity, she twirled a lock of her silver hair and noticed how long it had gotten over the month. Once at home, her ladies-in-waiting would have a harder time dressing her hair as extravagantly as they used to, whenever her father hosted masquerades and balls night after night. Queen Margaux, on the other hand, would be pleased to see her hair grown longer.

Alix snapped her fingers and the light returned once more. Fiore and the other maids arrived, waiting for her orders.

"I have decided that I despise Training so much," the princess said, admiring her silver hair.

* * *

To Maven, Training today was nothing out of ordinary. Rane Arven drilled them into perfecting their aims and endurances, pitted a few teens against each other, but tactically prevented another clash between Evangeline and Mare. The session could not have been worse, if it were not for Alix's absence.

In the corner of his eyes, he could see his brother approaching him, for once uninterested watching the match against Heron Welle and Atara Viper.

"Have you seen Alix?" Cal asked under his breath, standing beside Maven.

"No. Have you?"

"That's why I am asking."

In the arena, Atara's legion of hawks rained down on Heron's canopy shield. Even then, a rare sight of an animos forcing a greenwarden to surrender, Cal's attention was elsewhere.

The crown prince placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. It was warm, but there was something else beneath the soothing warmth. "She has been missing Training sessions for two days straight," he noted.

Maven nodded, his own eyes locked on the battlefield as Heron shielded herself from the assault with columns of trees springing from the ground. "I'll have Mother's men search for her through the security cameras," he whispered back. "This is Alix. Surely she wouldn't go too far."

Cal pressed his lips into a thin line, and then glanced at Mare's direction. She was standing between Cyrine Macanthos and Elane Haven, her focus spiked on the battle. The prince smiled and looked away, thinking himself unseen as Maven sighed and shifted on his foot. He had seen his brother smile more often than not, either in Mare's company or Alix's; and to tell the truth: Maven liked neither.

The session ended with Rane Arven dismissing them like always. Cal and Maven went their separate ways, with the crown prince jogging after the executioner, probably to ask something about today's training. Maven headed for the door, ignoring the buzzing gossips from the other teens.

"Maven!" He heard Mare's voice and he turned. "Wait up!"

"Mareena." His smile radiated the same warmth as Cal's. He offered his arm to her and together they went out with the rest of the crowd. "Disappointed you didn't fight?"

She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I just can't wait to see Julian."

He raised an eyebrow. "You are suddenly so positive about your Lessons."

"You have no idea." She smiled back as they rounded a corner. The Sentinels joined them then, forming two lines on either side of them. Her grip on his arm tightened. "I was meaning to ask, but: where's Alix? I haven't seen her for a few sessions."

"Beats me," grumbled the prince, making a face. "I actually promised Cal to go look for her. I would want you to come with me−" He gave her a long, thoughtful look−"but then again, your Lessons should come first. The Parting Ball is only one week away. You can use the time preparing."

"Guess so." Mare nodded as she looked ahead the road.

They parted ways in an intersection. The Sentinels remained with Maven while Lucas Samos reappeared to escort Mare back to her rooms to change clothes, and then for Julian Jacos's daily teachings. Maven waited until they were out of sight, and only then did his practiced smile twitched and tugged downwards. Watching Lucas Samos with Mare made him remember about Ptolemus Samos with Alix.

He continued down the sloping staircase and came across his cousin.

"Your Highness." Samson Merandus swept him a low bow.

"Cousin." Maven gaped, the surprise written in his face. He swallowed the lump in his throat and acknowledged him with a quick nod.

"I am come from Her Majesty the Queen," the whisper said. "She wants me to tell you that the one you are searching for is currently in the southern gardens, accompanied by her entourage." Then, once more, Samson gave another deep bow and did not rise until the prince gave him permission.

Maven's eye twitched at Samson's formal display. He was successful in keeping his demeanor composed at the sudden return of the notorious whisper, but to think that someone like Samson should be back in the Hall of the Sun, it was all but nerve-wracking. He had to keep his face straight until he could reach the southern gardens, where he could at least vent some of his frustrations to a certain someone.

It was not too long ago when Maven had taken Alix here for a little private time. In fact, it had only been about a week ago. After that, everything was a blur. He attended war councils, meetings, and feasts, while Alix had kept mostly to herself. It irritated Maven to think that perhaps she was spending time with that silver-haired devil while he was suffering the accounts of General Haven at the war front. Cal always enjoyed war stories. Maven? Not so much.

The royal entourage followed the descending pathway towards the fountain. Much to the prince's surprise, the place was packed. Not by teenaged couples hoping for a private time. But children, at least two that he could count, running and screaming around the gardens.

At first Maven was confused, his ice-blue eyes narrowing at once, but when his sight caught glimpse of a shadow wolf chasing after a little boy, his glare softened and he relaxed.

Belicos Lerolan's little boys were breathless in their laughter, the color rising in their cheeks. The ambassador himself was standing by the shade of a magnolia tree, content on watching. There, seated on the fountain's rim, was the Piedmont princess, wearing a black off-shoulder dress trimmed with golden silks at the collar. She was laughing along the children, her hands waving in the air like a master puppeteer.

Warmed by such a sight, Maven cleared his throat to announce his arrival.

Alix noticed him first. She turned her head to look at him, with golden eyes as bright as the sun. Her hands stopped waving, prompting the shadow wolves to slow down and stop. At the sudden interruption, the children fell silent and stared.

"Your Highness," Belicos greeted as he approached the prince. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Lord Lerolan," said the prince, though his gaze was locked on the princess. A few moments passed and he looked down on the twins, their curly chestnut hair wild as their breaths. He smiled, using the same smile he always used on tours. "Hunter and Trey, too, good afternoon."

"Prince Maven." Alix curtsied, though her gaze was now elsewhere.

"Princess," he returned. He reached out for her gloved hand to kiss. "Good afternoon."

The silence that fell between them was quite awkward. Belicos was first to break the tension, excusing himself and his sons for the moment. Hunter and Trey were loathe to go, clutching so tightly Alix's skirts she was afraid the precious fabric would tear. To prevent such a horror, she knelt on the sun-kissed floor and patted each of their heads.

She met their beaming faces. "We can play some other time," was her promise. She already promised them so many, but accomplished so little. "Next time, okay?"

And they went away, Belicos holding their small hands and led them past the line of Sentinels, out of the sight in the gardens.

Once alone, the two royals stood in utmost discomfort.

Maven ordered for his Sentinels to leave the vicinity. Alix did the same to her Guards, though Bryon Novara gave Maven one hard look, before stomping out of the way.

"So," the prince began, combing his fingers through raven locks, "you were not in Training for two days."

"Ah, so you noticed."

"How could I not? Your absence was painfully obvious."

"Though I reckon Lord Arven did not miss me."

"Cal did," he murmured so softly she might not even hear it. But she still did. He sighed. "Cal went looking for you on the first day. Then he asked me to take over today. Even Mare asked." He lifted his eyes to scrutinize her face. He could see something else in her usually serene composure. Was it hesitation? Fear? Something he could not place−not with her. "What's wrong, Alix?"

She looked around to see if any of the Sentinels or Guards was listening. Her voice dropped into a whisper, matching his own. "I do not feel like training, that's all."

He blinked. "So you sit here and dawdle with children? Why do you even spend so much time with them?"

Her laughter was very genuine and amused. "Oh, Maven. I would not expect you to understand." When his eyebrows furrowed, she laughed even more. "Remember when we were children? I have been the youngest one: youngest of five siblings, younger than Tiberias, even younger than you. I so hate being treated like a child back then. I wanted to experience how it is to be the older one, just this once."

"You're pathetic," Maven snorted, rolling his eyes. Playfully, he offered his arm to her and she accepted, following him where the pathway sloped towards a lane of rose trees in gilded pots. "If you want to have children, all you have to do is ask."

Then, realizing what he had just said, he slapped his forehead. "Damn it, I did not mean it like that."

She caught him looking so pale and ashamed that it was hard not to laugh again. "You do not seem like yourself today, Northern Bastard. Is everything all right? Did big brother outshine you again?"

He shot her a little glare, and then scratched his head. "No, just some stress lately."

"War councils?"

"Scarlet Guard," he confided.

"Are there more attacks?" she whispered, alert. "How come no one ever tells me?"

"Because it is not your field," he pointed out. With his voice raised like this, he sounded aggravated. He sighed and slipped his hand into hers, calming himself as well as her. "It is not your duty to know these kinds of things. We have generals and soldiers."

"But I am a princess," came her determined answer. Her voice matched his, and for a moment there, Maven was afraid they would have another misunderstanding. "It is my responsibility to know. I care about my people, my kingdom. What happens in Norta, happens in Piedmont as well."

"I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Either way, the Scarlet Guard poses no threats whatsoever." He flashed her a confident smirk and pulled her further down the gardens.

They arrived where the artificial greenery was at its peak: gigantic topiaries dappled with pink flowers, a winding hedge maze up ahead, and a blooming magnolia tree dominating the central part of the maze. The skies blot out the sunlight, allowing the wraith princess to admire the scenery before her.

Maven led her under the magnolia tree and sat down the bench with her. "Enough about me," he said, playing with the soft fabric of her gloves. "What about you? You never answered me question. Why did you miss Training for two days? And don't tell me because Evangeline scared you."

She snatched her hand away from his and shoved his shoulder. All she received was genuine laughter from the prince. "I am not made to endure Rane Arven's training exercises," she murmured. "To be honest, I am not as good a fighter as you and Tiberias."

"What do you mean?" he asked and scooted closer. "Even if you're not as strong, that doesn't mean you can skip Training. Every Silver has to learn how to fight. That's essential, especially for a princess."

"Great. Now you sound like my grandfather."

Her sudden mention of her austere grandfather made Maven pause. He reached out for her hands and squeezed gently. "Has he made contact with you?"

She nodded, tears brimming from her eyes. "The last time I saw him, it was shortly before I travelled to Norta for your brother's Queenstrial. I had to go through that process again before I could even wish to see daylight." She gave him a bitter smile. "And you always wonder why I hate Training."

He shook his head. "If you want, I can tell Mother to notify Arven. You can spend the rest of your time doing whatever you like," he promised. "If it means saving you from another horrible training, then I would tell Mother. I would make her understand."

"Thank you." Alix rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Of course. Always," he whispered against her hair.

* * *

That was the last time Maven saw the Piedmont princess. While Alix did not notice his presence, the prince was always lingering where she had been−watching between curtains, through windows, even occasionally stealing a glance in the gardens where he knew Alix would spend most of her time with her ladies and Guards. To his increasing frustration, Ptolemus Samos resumed his place by her side, there for the princess to lean on, the target of her smiles and laughs.

The Parting Ball was only a few days away. Maven could do without the counting, but there was too many to anticipate. Tonight, most of all. With a sideways glance at the clock, he fixed his black coat and exited his chambers.

It was a rather dark night. He craned his neck to see that there was no moon in the skies. He amused himself into thinking that Alix would have loved strolling out tonight, just to bask in the darkness. It would have been interesting: her a wraith, him a burner. Two Silvers with opposing abilities. While he enjoyed warmth and sunshine, she appreciated the cold more.

But enough of thinking about her. He had more pressing matters to attend. Like a thief stealing into the night, the prince glided towards the unused conservatory, all the way on the other side of the southern gardens. Instead of open skies, glass ceilings separate them from the stars. There were more officers here than in the south. The only reminiscent thing in this place was the abundance of magnolia trees, blooming white-and-roseate flowers.

When Maven arrived, there were already figures waiting for him in the shadows. He was no wraith, but he spending time with Alix was enough to make him aware how shadows could lurch. He stood his ground even as several people dressed in red fabric appeared before him.

"Ah, the little prince," sneered the one marked with a nasty scar. "Where's the little lightning girl?"

"Busy, I think," he answered, drawing up the courage to match her sneer.

"Hm." The woman tugged her red scarf down to her chin. Her hand strayed to her right hip, where her gun was nestled comfortably against her black leather pants. "I want what you promised on the first night. I want the names who can tear the Silver government apart."

The prince scowled as he glanced over the woman's shoulder, spotting a boy with green eyes. Mare's friend, if he remembered correctly. Eyes still wandering, he spotted a tall red-haired man with one of the kitchen maids. _Reds_ , he reminded himself, drawing a long breath. _What would Alix think of me?_

Again, the woman barked out the command. "I need the targets, _prince_."

This time, Maven answered to her, despite the demeaning feeling. "Names, of course. Ellyn Macanthos, she leads the war councils and leads a small legion; Reynald Iral, a Lord of the Treasury, he manages the war funds and trading schemes with other countries."

Farley nodded, urging him to go on.

The next name was harder. Even if Maven was not particularly fond of the ambassador, he could not keep Alix's face from his mind as he spoke. "Belicos Lerolan, our ambassador to Piedmont, he ensures the great relationship between Norta and Piedmont−"

"From what I heard, _you_ are the one keeping the great relationship between Norta and Piedmont," interrupted the red-haired lieutenant with a crooked smirk of his own. "I hear our beautiful princess is very much taken with you."

"Do you want to hear this or not?" The prince bristled.

"Shut it, Tristan," Farley hissed.

"Gotcha." Tristan chuckled and stepped back.

Farley turned back to the younger prince and measured his expression with a deep growl rumbling in her throat. "Well? Any more names for us?"

Maven hesitated. Those were all the names he had in store for them. The names he and his mother had carefully decided among hundreds of other Silver generals and counsellors. Yet another name was at the tip of his tongue, begging to be unleashed. His fists curled at his sides as he tried to make sense of his decision. He had one more name, just one more. A name that did not mean too much in the Silver government, but meant so much to him. Even if he dropped the name, Elara Merandus would barely grieve for that silver-haired devil. No one else to mourn him but his family.

And so Maven spoke: "Ptolemus Samos, he leads the City Guard in Archeon, a fearsome enemy if we crossed him. Better to be safe than sorry."

It worked perfectly. The Scarlet Guard operatives accepted the names and disappeared into the night; their movements so quiet and practiced that no one could have sensed them. Maven stood alone in the conservatory, pleased with the turn of events, sighing as if a heavy load was taken from his shoulders.

As he walked back to his room, he smiled. Ptolemus Samos would not be missed, except by his family. Alix might mourn for him, judging from her fondness of him. But Maven certainly would not. He could not wait to see that silver devil drowning in his own pool of silverblood.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So much hype for the Parting Ball! Anyway, this serves as a prologue for the events that would impact the story to the extremes. We get to hear more from Alix's brothers, and then some. Maven (you little sneaky bastard) still enjoys playing on both sides of the game. I have to admit: Imagining Elara coaching Maven to be the character that he is right, that's beautiful.

Thank you very much for my good friends who reviewed last chapter:

* **hifivebuddy** \- "That almost kiss" Oh I wish they did! T_T

* **GeeGee** \- Thank you! I liked Ptolemus in the first book, though he was way better in the third. Same goes for Evangeline.

* **IsabellaPotter15** \- Why not both? ;) Or ship Alix with Cal as well to make things more confusing! LOL

* **akagami hime chan** \- Thank you so much! Yes, this fandom needs more fans!

* **Miss 905** \- Thank you!

* **Pretzel41** \- Hopefully I could update more regularly than I used to.

* **ShinigamiReiko** \- Petitioning a group called "Protect Maven at all costs" and "#AllTheseFeels" because the feels are too much to handle!

* **Guest** \- Our babies gonna kill each other very soon. So proud. *sniffles*


	17. A Darkness

**Chapter 17**

 _ **A Darkness**_

* * *

Once, when she was young, she used to see herself as a small, pale girl, cursed by the sickly pale complexion that defined her family name. With hair as pale as the moon, glinting like a silver waterfall across her back. With eyes round and bright and golden as the sun. Even then, so many years ago, she was the smallest and scrawniest of a litter of five rambunctious siblings, her four older brothers like knights and kings in her innocent eyes.

Then the two princes of Norta came along: just as kingly and dazzling as her brothers, with wild black hair and warm smiles, akin to the flames they controlled. But their eyes were different: one of heated bronze and one of calm sky blue. The little girl was always lost in their eyes, mesmerized by their ethereal presence and dignity, and knew for sure there was no way she could live up to them. There was no way in her practiced, glittering world that she could ever compare to them both.

Yet here she was now, ten years later.

She sat in front of her gilt-edged mirror and saw the same small girl so pale that everyone would think her sick. She saw the same girl with a practiced smile, perfected long before she could say her first words. Without the make-up, she still definitely looked like a fragile porcelain doll.

Thank the heavens to someone who invented make-up.

Hours before the Parting Ball, the fragile girl turned into a confident princess. Her usually pale cheeks bloomed with the pink blush, her round eyes more pronounced by the black eyeliner, her lips painted with the lightest touch of pink. Her silver hair was pulled up high on the back of her head, twisted thickly and contained within a golden jeweled net encrusted with golden diamonds. She wore a small tiara to tuck away the rest of the shorter locks threatening to fall away.

She smiled at herself on the mirror, both pleased with her appearance and practicing for the cameras. Only few would know how excruciating practicing could be. Then she stood up, allowing her younger maids-in-waiting to pull back her chair; and, light on her heels, she gave a slight twirl to watch her skirts billow.

"You look beautiful, Your Highness." Sefiros giggled, the young skin healer hugging herself dreamily.

"Do I not always?" Alix retorted good-naturedly, and her maids giggled all the more.

"Who will escort you tonight?" asked Lady Curceo, a shiver only second to Fiore in age. She stood the tallest of them all, and stood as tall as the Guards in her ice-blue heels. If Alix were to listen to her companions' constant gossips, Curceo might have a romance with one of her Guard cousins.

The princess pretended she did not hear, opting to admire her reflection instead. She hummed, only to tease them. A little smile crossed her lips. "Hmm, I wonder as well. Lord Samos, perhaps?"

There was a time when she despised the company of anyone with the Samos blood. Evangeline always proved herself to be a difficult person, Volo Samos a cold and calculating strategist like everyone else−but Ptolemus was above the criteria she set for the magnetrons. He was a pleasant company in any given situation, who knew what to say and what to do, without showing the slightest malice that his younger sister had in plenty. He was quiet and reserved, witty and had the sense of humor and sarcasm that both Cal and Maven seemed to lack. Yet he was also quick to act and to anger, prone to violence that befitted the Commander of Archeon… and yet, Alix found him very fascinating that she was willing for him to escort her for as long as she stayed in Norta.

That, or maybe Maven was just out of her reach and she was out of his reach as well.

She smiled at her reflection again, mentally berating herself for remembering Maven. She had not seen him that much since the day in the southern gardens. She opted to stay in her bedchambers with her maids, or strolled around with Belicos and his twins, or generally just staying out of Maven's way for the rest of the week.

Her ability picked up movements outside her chambers. Guard Novara's shadows lurched forward, his cape stirring from the evening breeze. Then, more Guards moved in unison, as Novara approached the door and knocked.

As usual, the maids giggled and teasingly pushed at each other, and it was up to the grown-up Fiore who sighed exasperatedly and went to answer the calls.

Bryon Novara's grey eyes went to the princess. He wore his golden helmet and silver cape, looking more like a knight in forgotten legends than a firma called upon to babysit his royal cousin. A moment of silence passed between them before he bowed at the waist. "Lord Ptolemus Samos, Your Highness."

"Let him in."

As Novara stepped back, Samos stepped forward. Ptolemus was like an Adonis in his black suit of metal scales, shining like spilled oil across a black marble floor. His stark silver hair had been trimmed, the princess noticed, and his usually hawkish eyes have a strange gleam into them tonight. Perhaps he was excited; perhaps he was looking forward to see his sister rise higher in the society. Either way, Alix was not as much enthusiastic about the latter, but she was certainly excited for the former. How long had it been since she last danced in a real event?

In no time, Ptolemus led her out of the residence halls and towards the ballroom. A dozen of Piedmontese Guards followed twenty steps behind them, so as not to intrude on their private moment.

"I know you are always beautiful," Ptolemus breathed lowly, with his dark eyes momentarily fluttering down to glance at her, "but tonight you stun me, Your Highness. I am absolute you will stun everyone else. I must be the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side."

"Oh, my Lord Samos," Alix chided, laughing so softly in the way she knew would entice him. For a moment there, she saw his pointed smirk. _The target has been captured_. Even though they both knew these were all just fun and games natural to a court of skilled liars and flatterers, it still amused Alix that Ptolemus could compliment her in the way neither Maven nor Cal could. If she could, perhaps she could take Ptolemus home to Piedmont so he could compliment her for hours on end. Wouldn't that be a sight to see?

"I especially love your necklace," the magnetron continued his low whispering, voice husky and alluring.

"Do you now?" One gloved hand went up to the diamond necklace. Samos made− a heavy weight to bear yet just as beautiful. "I was reluctant to wear this."

A low chuckle, rumbling from his throat. Ptolemus did not buy the lie, but chuckled all the same. He had to wonder if she played mind games like this to the crown prince. "I daresay my pride would hurt if you did not. It looks absolutely perfect with your dress."

She had the grace to blush, her cheeks blooming the slightest shade of pink. Again, she was no longer the scrawny child with a sickly hue. She was proud of that. "Thank you," she murmured.

A pair of red-clad Sentinels threw open the ballroom doors, revealing a field of velvet carpet, crystallized chandeliers, lords and ladies in their finest suits and gowns, in their rings and necklaces, in their house's colors. They ceased their murmuring to acknowledge the newest presence, bowing low before a foreign princess and her escort. The Lower Houses were nearest to the entrance, too insignificant to have the right near to the throne, to the king and queen they so respect.

Alix spotted House Lerolan among these Houses. Though Queen Anabel was their most famous member, they were too few a Lerolan active in the government−or so Ptolemus explained as they passed them by. She deflated when she saw no signs of Belicos and Diantha, and not even Jairus Lerolan with his green Viper eyes.

They weaved through more families, ignoring the lower ones but immediately recognizing the higher ups. House Iral stood proudly amongst the crowd, captivating in their bronze skin and red-and-blue airy outfits. Sonya was kind enough to pause and bow. Moving along, the pair came across House Haven, who looked more like attending a funeral in their black robes and fiery red hair. Elane idled long enough to bow; but when she straightened herself, her pretty blue eyes went to Ptolemus and he nodded, acknowledging her without a word. A silent communication between a magnetron and a shadow drew Alix's curiosity, but she said no more when Ptolemus led her to the next family.

House Samos was resplendent in their silvers and blacks. The metal suit had become the family, each member wearing a variation of someone else's armor. Only Volo looked different, a remembrance that he was the head of this fearsome House, and that his daughter was soon to be the next queen.

"Your Highness." Like before at the balcony, Volo swept her a low bow. His wife followed suit, her dark green skirts reminiscent of a python's scales. "You look so beautiful tonight."

"I thank you kindly, Lord Samos." Alix smiled in earnest, basking in their practiced lies and compliments.

"Dare I hope to say that Your Highness enjoys my son's company?" Larentia Viper straightened herself, and she was as graceful as a swan−chin up, arched back, a pleasant smile. But she was no swan. At best she was a vulture, waiting for a chance to snatch up any crown she and her family could reach. Norta or Piedmont, only a foolish vulture would not think of snatching both.

Alix peeped at Ptolemus's face, and he looked down on her with a slight smile. She faced Larentia again, humoring her. "I could not have asked for a better company."

"Ah, then you would want to show him to Piedmont? I hear you are leaving after the Parting Ball."

The world around her shattered at the realization that Larentia was right. Alix stood pale and dazed, the arm intertwined with Ptolemus tightening, her fingers digging into his steel sleeve. Her silence wore on, awkward between them, and she was about to fall over on her heels when a muscled arm caught her round the waist, keeping her standing.

Volo's dark eyes flashed at his wife. It appeared that Evangeline's sharp tongue and tactlessness came her from mother. "Apologies, Your Highness," he said to recover from the damage that was already done. His wife had just told the princess she was leaving, for she had no purpose in Norta afterwards−how embarrassing could that be?

"No, no." Alix waved a hand to dismiss him. Once, she might have rung up a storm and flashed like lightning at them for the insult. She would have summoned a shadow and embarrass Larentia before the guests. But the Parting Ball was her last public appearance in Norta; she could not leave such image to the Nortans, especially not in time of a war that continuously brewed.

"I only meant it as an idle comment," Larentia said apologetically as she dipped into a deeper curtsy than her last one. "Your Highness is gracious to forgive me."

"Of course." With a forced smile, she looked up at Ptolemus and tugged at his arm.

The magnetron understood her meaning, and they dismissed themselves from his family. They delved deeper into the crowd, noting every High House and their array of different colors. At the very front, King Tiberias and Queen Elara stood together, without any signs of the princes and their brides.

A few moments later, they found out. Cal and Evangeline were in eastern part of the crowd, murmuring their thanks to all the well-wishers for their upcoming wedding. Alix's eyebrow twitched at the sight of the magnetron girl exchanging pleasantries, her usual smirk turned into a demure smile that Alix herself knew how to pull. Beside her, Ptolemus seemed to relax more, sighing as he knew his sister was in good condition, and not out pointing a knife at somebody.

"Should we join them, Your Highness?" he asked her after a while.

"I suppose," she answered with a shrug. "Better to be there than stand at the front like idiots, right?"

He laughed as he led her back to the crowd. The High Houses all but swarmed around them−Houses Gliacon, Osanos, Eagrie, Laris. There was not a family member who did not compliment Ptolemus's sleek suit or Alix's choice for a necklace. While the magnetron seemed earnestly bored by the unending gushes of praises, the princess basked under them.

Her laughter died down when a certain pair came into view.

Prince Maven and Lady Mareena entered the ballroom together. They matched each other in a strange way: the dark-haired prince with his olive-skinned bride, Maven's charcoal uniform to Mare's purple gown. They were all smiles and laughs as the Silvers swarmed them next, giving Alix and Ptolemus some respite from their onslaught. This time, it was Ptolemus's time to bask, watching his princess frown with her golden eyes glued to the scene unfolding before her, summoning such hurt in her heart but still unable to tear her gaze away from the source.

To distract her, Ptolemus pulled her towards the pair. "My congratulations," he told Maven, extending his strong arm to him. He did the same to Mareena, but his attention was down to his princess, who was still very much distracted by the younger prince. And Maven was distracted by her.

Alix drowned in those pools of bright blue eyes, before she snapped from her trance and curtsied. "Yes," she murmured as she rose. "My congratulations, Prince Maven and Lady Titanos."

Mare bit her lip, uncertain how to respond. Despite her few weeks with them, she knew well enough that something was between Maven and Alix, but who was she to say anything otherwise? Was she not the cause why the prince and princess were apart? She shrank at the thought of it, imagining how Maven must curse her for blocking his pathway to happiness.

Instead of a curse, Maven smiled and snaked an arm around Mare's waist, pulling her against his hip. If the Piedmont princess was offended, her bright face showed no signs of it. Mare was impressed.

"Thank you," the prince answered formally, as if he was not playing around with the princess a few days ago in the southern gardens, when Mare came upon them with their lips merely inches apart.

"Y-Yes." Mare swallowed the lump in her throat and returned the curtsy. "Thank you, Princess Alix."

"You must come to Piedmont some time," the princess said, feeling Ptolemus's hand on the small of her back. She leaned against him, her back on his chest, and had the pleasure to see Maven's eyes darken. She fought the urge to laugh. "When everything's all but settled, you must come to Piedmont and meet my brothers."

Before Mare could agree, Maven interrupted. "Not in the middle of a war, though."

Her long eyelashes fluttered at him. "Oh, I am sure King Tiberias would agree. You are right when you say that we are in the middle of a war. It would be best to strengthen allegiances with our allies, wouldn't you agree, Prince Maven?"

He conceded with a terse nod, and the princess dipped again in another curtsy before she and Ptolemus excused themselves. Maven's eyes trailed after Alix's billowing skirts, sweeping like a peacock across polished the floor.

A few minutes later, the crowd cleared the ballroom and a slow, romantic music started filling the room. The crown prince and his bride entered first, looking like complete contrasts. Cal was in his black military uniform, the medals and ribbons pinned on his chest. He wore black gloves, and underneath his sleeves, his flame-maker bracelet gleamed. Evangeline was more of a personified cactus in Alix's opinion; the magnetron girl wore spikes in her silver dress. The princess was more worried that Evangeline might turn Tiberias into a pincushion before the Parting Ball ended.

Alix turned away when Maven and Mare entered next. She felt their shadows moving closer to each other, so there was no point in watching. Instead, she turned her attention to one shadow approaching her. Her smile was already wide before the person could get into her view.

Belicos grinned back at her, and then kissed her gloved hand. Then he recoiled when he saw Ptolemus standing behind the princess. The oblivion bowed and the magnetron nodded.

"Lord Lerolan," Alix whispered. "I was almost afraid you did not make it."

"Apologies, Your Highness, but the twins were very naughty. I had to take them outside to the gardens to behave first." Belicos ran his fingers through his chestnut hair. He wore his usual sunset-colored robes, one fiery jewel glittering on his ring finger. "My wife is taking them inside any moment now."

The second music started, and the princes and their brides continued spinning.

Lady Diantha Lerolan held her twins by the hands. As Belicos often despaired, Hunter and Trey were like whirlwinds, dashing and tugging at their mother's hand to get a better view of the dancing royals. Then they would notice someone they knew from the crowd, pull their mother along, and say hello to the familiar face. Diantha exchanged a few words, fussed over her sons, and made their way toward her husband and the Piedmontese princess.

"Princess Alix!" Hunter and Trey jumped onto her skirts, clutching the black lace and stepping onto the black silk train. Their bright amber eyes were glittering with utmost mischief. Despite the same face, the princess could tell them apart. "We got something from the gardens!"

"Did you now?" Alix mused, her voice tender and quiet. She placed both hands on their chestnut curls.

"We did! We did!" At that moment, the boys produced flowers from their back pockets. Her knowledge with flowers was limited at best, but having Fiore as her chief lady-in-waiting had its perks. Hunter was holding up a small bouquet of pink magnolias, while Trey had a stalk of purple bellflowers.

She laughed at the proffered gifts and thanked them both with a kiss on their cheeks. The boys embraced her around the neck and shoulders, almost forcing her down to the floor with their combined weight. Lucky for her, Ptolemus was there to snatch her before she could fall.

The third song started. In the spotlight, Cal almost looked bored.

Alix turned to her escort and showed him the flowers. Ptolemus only smiled, uncertain what to do with such things. As a magnetron, flowers and plants were never an interest of his. He once cut down a field of lavender back in the Rift during his training days−if that counted. But Alix had no need for his compliments; she instructed him to remake her golden tiara and intertwine the magnolia and bellflower in between. As the third song was approaching to an end, the princess wore a flower crown of pink and purple flowers amidst her thick silver hair.

Ptolemus stood back in awe, proud of his first attempt to create something delicate. Something that was not armor or knife or lance. Not a vambrace, helmet, or sword. He made a crown of _flowers_. His ego swelled in his chest.

Unable to contain his pride, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "May I have this dance, Your Highness?"

They were the first couple to join the princes and their brides in the dancefloor. Cal and Maven nodded to Alix as she pressed herself close to her escort, feeling his warm hand creep across her waist and land on her back. Instead on merely holding hands, their fingers were intertwined; and Alix, now in good spirits after her encounter with the twins, allowed Ptolemus to lace their fingers together. It was her last public appearance in Norta. She was not loath to begrudge him of anything.

The music was once again slow and tender, almost like a lullaby. She was not familiar of the song, but Ptolemus spun her around like a professional dancer. Her ability allowed her to read his movements. In no time, they were dancing together like old friends, twirling and smiling.

Maven watched for the first thirty seconds, and then disappeared from the crowd.

After the magnetron, Belicos asked permission for a dance. With a laugh, Alix held out her hand and danced with the ambassador in time with the music. Somewhere in the dancefloor, Ptolemus found his sister and they danced together, as close as they had always been as children.

It was such a light-hearted event that the romantic music turned into something upbeat. The Silvers laughed and skipped about, all energetic. Belicos released the princess and made way for his sons, who were so eager to dance that they threw themselves onto the princess. The three of them danced in circles and bounced and clapped, then held hands again and twirled. By the time the music ended and Alix returned at Ptolemus's side, her pale cheeks were flushed with color.

"You were magnificent, Your Highness." Ptolemus produced a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped daintily against her forehead and temples. "Always so mesmerizing. The crowd enjoyed watching you dance."

"Oh, were they all watching?" She panted. She was so engrossed with Hunter and Trey that she did not notice the watching crowd, or the cameras on the corners.

"They were. Would you like something to drink?"

"Yes, please."

He snapped his fingers, more like summoning a dog than a servant.

One of the servants came hustling forward−a tall young man with lovely green eyes. He avoided eye contact with the pair as he bowed stiffly and held out his tray for the princess.

Alix smiled as she picked a fizzy golden drink. Before the boy could leave in a hurry, she murmured a quick "Thank you" and he did a double take, as if not expecting her to look or speak to him.

Ptolemus's voice was sharp. "That will be all, Red."

The servant mumbled his apology and went away. Not long after, Alix noticed him offering the same drink to Lady Titanos. Then he disappeared from the crowd.

Belicos Lerolan returned to their side, and it took a breadth of patience from the magnetron not to snap at the oblivion. He said he had something to tell the princess, and so whisked her somewhere out of earshot. Alone for once, Ptolemus sighed and decided to join his sister with Elane Haven.

Near the corner of the room, Alix could feel fewer shadows here. She felt at ease.

"I almost forgot, Your Highness. I have word from one of your brothers."

"Which one?" was the most important question.

"The Crown Prince Umberto."

Her breath hitched. She wondered what could Hum want at a time like this. She was nearly finished with her visit in Norta. What else could her brother want from her? She steeled herself for the ambassador's next words−but something felt odd. Here in the corner of the room, she felt shadows creeping like predators in a jungle. Surely enough, there was King Tiberias and Prince Cal standing together, Maven by his mother's side, and Evangeline smirking at Ptolemus and Elane. Her Piedmontese Guards were standing like statues by the entrance doors. But there were foreign shadows she could not place−not in this wide ballroom with almost a hundred Silvers.

When the lights suddenly failed and the room was engulfed in darkness, Alix understood.

A spear went slicing through the air, coming somewhere from her left. Her training days with her lord grandfather flashed back to her, and she moved in time with the shadow, moved like a dancer following the rhythm of a music. The spear embedded itself on the ground next to her, and through Belicos Lerolan's chest.

Silver blood bubbled around his mouth as he fell. For once, Alix was unconcerned of her expensive dress and dove across the floor to catch his body. Silver stained black lace and silk. A red cloth fluttered against her damp cheek and she recognized the torn sun stamped on it.

"No, no−" She slashed a part of her skirt and pressed it on Belicos's bleeding chest. The ambassador wheezed and coughed, staining her dress all the more. "Stay with me, Belicos, stay with me!"

Hot tears clouded her vision and she looked up, the darkness clearer to her than sunlight. "G-Guard Novara! Sentinel Skonos!" But no one glanced at her. No one heard. Everyone was in a frenzy to escape from the unseen onslaught. "Somebody… Please…" She cradled his body and felt helpless, so very helpless. Where were her brothers? Where was Hum when she needed him most? "Please… Help him…"

Someone pulled her away from the lifeless body and forced her to her feet. Through her tears, she saw Prince Tiberias checking every inch of her body, searching for wounds. Above them, the lights kept flickering, making the battle appear more horrendous in flashing red and silver blood.

"Alix!" Cal's voice was torn between worried and authoritative. His warm hands cupped her cheeks, wiped the streaming tears away. "Alix! Focus! I need you to focus!"

The lights flickered again, and the gunshots kept ringing. Around them, the joined forces of the Sentinels and Guards were a menacing display of abilities against guns.

Cal noticed Belicos's body and swallowed hard. He, too, needed to focus. He turned back to the princess and embraced her tightly. "I need you in this fight," he whispered fervently. "Alix, you are the only wraith here. If there's someone who can hunt in the darkness, that would be you. I need you."

Still, she did not hear. She pulled away and clutched the lapels of his uniform. Something whizzed in the air and a gunshot hit a Sentinel. "Belicos, p-please… Heal him, Tiberias… Skonos… Call Lord Skonos!"

The prince gritted his teeth in frustration and forced her to face the ongoing battle. There were Silvers screaming in both fear and pain. Most of them were long gone, hustled away by the Sentinels. Maven and Mare were not around, probably already somewhere safe. All those who remained were the dead bodies, the wounded ones.

Golden eyes searched through the bodies, and then widened. She felt her heart tugging more pain. She felt weak in the knees. There, in the other end of the room, was Ptolemus Samos lying on his stomach. A pool of fresh silverblood drowned him.

"I need you in this fight," Cal repeated. The closest Sentinel tossed him a handgun. His left hand became alive with flames, hungry and animated for battle. Then he turned back to the princess. She looked back at him, her tears dried and her face reflecting anger. "Shall we go hunting?"

The Guards gathered around her. Bryon Novara stood by her side, a knight in his golden armor.

She ripped her skirts until they reached above her knees. She removed her jewels and the Samos diamond, and placed them aside. Then her hands reached out for her flower crown, and paused reluctantly. Hunter and Trey brought her those flowers. Ptolemus fashioned that crown for her. Tears threatened to fall again when she remembered Belicos with the spear on his chest, and Ptolemus with blood around him.

She left the flower crown on her head, then nodded to the prince.

Alix moved first. Wraiths basked in shadows. Always. "On the condition that I punish those who are responsible." Her lord grandfather had taught her his ways, the dancing shadows to install fear in the weak. Whispers were not the only Silvers with the ability to break minds.

Tiberias growled, the fire growing larger in his hand. "Let's go hunting."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Rest in Peace, Ptolemus a̶n̶d̶ ̶B̶e̶l̶i̶c̶o̶s̶. Probably only Alix and Evangeline will miss you, but you know.

I had a dream two nights ago. I was stuck in a sinking ship with Cal and Maven. Since they are both burners, swimming is not something they are looking forward to, but they gathered their courage and tried to save me. Both were fighting who gets to save me from the ship. Guess who saved me in the end? Needless to say, I woke up feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. (ꈍ ᴗ ꈍ✿)

* **hifivebuddy** \- It's going down for real! *cue music

* **swanfantasy** \- Oho, you have a point there. 10 points for swanfantasy!

* **ShinigamiReiko** \- Grandpa Wraith is gonna be more than just a jerk. LOL. Spoiler(?)

* **Guest** \- YES TOLLY GOODBYE! MUA HA HA HA!

* **Margarita effect** \- YESSSSS!

* **Bain904** \- Thank you so much! Apart from my dream, you also made my night! Cheers!


	18. Crossroads

**Chapter 18**

 _ **Crossroads**_

* * *

"On my two o'clock, Sentinel Rhambos," Alix murmured.

Behind her, the strongarm broke from the group and grabbed a fleeing Scarlet Guard operative by the skin of his neck. He slammed the Red to the floor, the tile spreading spidercracks beneath a bleeding head. _Serves him right_ , thought the princess and moved on.

"Three on my seven, if you would please, Sentinel Welle," she continued.

The greenwarden kneeled to the ground and put her palms flat on the floor. A flurry of gnarling roots burst forth and entangled the Reds around the waist. One of them carried a gun and attempted to shoot down his assaulter. Sentinel Macanthos stepped forward in defense, taking the bullets in stride with his impenetrable skin of stone.

Watching with quiet satisfaction, Cal's bronze eyes shifted from one player to another: the princess would sense the fleeing shadows and pinpoint them easily to the Sentinels, choosing the most capable to counter the victims. In a battlefield, the prince found the ability useful. In a game of shadows and stealth, the ability might have won them a war. But Alix was no soldier; she was not half the fighter her elder brother Prince Umberto was.

Still, she was magnificent.

"On my ten, a tall man with a rifle." Alix lifted golden eyes, bloodshot from her tears, to Sentinel Samos. Something flickered in her eyes and Cal saw it. Sadness. Shame. Remorse, even. Ptolemus's death was something she did not take kindly. "Sentinel Samos," she said in a firm voice. "The rifle, please."

The magnetron stepped away from the group and stretched his right arm. His fingers curled, tight like an eagle's powerful talon. In the darkness, they heard the unmistakable clatter of metal pieces and a pained grunt as the man fell to the ground.

Alix pursed her lips, her ability in constant use. No more shadows up here. No more scrambling limbs and bodies squeezing into tight windows like rats in a canal. Up here in the alcove, the operatives were either killed or fled.

With a nod to the crown prince, Alix followed their group as they descended from the staircase. She could not bring it to herself to look around the ballroom, littered with countless bodies splashed with two colors of blood. Her Piedmontese Guards took care of downstairs, securing the area and all points of enter and exit. As firmas, they could track anyone on land as easily and deftly as Alix could sense shadows in complete darkness.

Something beneath them rumbled. Cal raised his fist, halting the group's descent. His eyes were sharp and narrowed, his nose up like a hound on a scent. Then, being the only one to realize what was happening, jumped back to the group and wrapped his muscled arms around Alix's smaller form. She fitted perfectly in his arms, like a doll, her head pressed against his broad chest. She could hear the wild thumping of his heart. If she were not in a battlefield, the thought of Tiberias embracing her thus might have made her blush.

She was not blushing now.

A bomb exploded like any other: searing with heat, destroying everything in its path, _unforgiving_. But in Cal's embrace, Alix need only to close her eyes and imagine being wrapped up in a blanket, in front of a fireplace, during the winter season. She closed her eyes and pressed herself closer to the warmth, biting back a scream as all the other Sentinels and Guards were doing. In their steel armors, the soldiers did not stand a chance.

The explosion dissipated with a hiss and a cloud of black smoke. Carefully, Cal let go of the princess and stared long at her face. Dark soot made its way to her pale face, her lips were parted for quick, shallow breathing. He wiped a thumb across the apex of her cheek, catching her attention. He smiled softly, brotherly, and she thanked him by cupping his cheek.

Her hold on his face hardened. She started, eyes darting around. "We have misses," she whispered. Despite her lack of formal military knowledge, _misses_ was a word Cal understood.

"Where?" His voice was sharp. "Which direction?"

"On my eleven, a woman and a boy, escaping through the front door."

Cal stood amongst the black smoke. His flames exploded, hotter than the bomb itself. It grew like a fireball in his right hand, larger and larger until it engulfs his entire hand. Alix watched, fascinated. She had never seen him this angry before, or violent. It scared her; it scared her that her charming brother-prince turned into this frenzied beast during battle.

The prince hurled his fireball to the entrance doors, flames hot enough to melt the stone and diamondglass that designed them. The woman and boy screamed at the flames and stepped back from the molten mess.

"Sentinel Iral." The prince beckoned to the silk and they went to collect the misses.

"Are you all right, Your Highness?" One of the sentinels was offering a hand.

"Yes, thank you." She took his hand and felt the familiar firm grip. Looking up, she met the silver hair and dark eyes of Sentinel Samos. Guilt washed over her again. She turned away from his comfortable presence and turned for everyone. It appeared Cal's protection reached the Sentinels as well, suffering only minor burns that Sentinel Skonos effortlessly healed.

Not far from them, she could feel Cal and Iral's shadows apprehending the woman and boy. Yet something was still amiss. Amid the smoke and crumbling ballroom, there was one shadow remaining, sleeker and more cunning than the rest. Alix stiffened and looked around the ballroom; the smoke was thick and unrelenting, the scent of burned corpses putting her senses and ability into disarray.

When the shadow pulled out a rifle, Alix's head snapped upwards, to the chandelier.

"Die, Silver!" A scarred woman fired at their group, bullets ricocheting and hitting everyone.

Alix dived across the dancefloor and, ungracefully so, landed on her face first. _The cameras. Are there cameras here?_ She scrambled back to her feet and felt the woman's shadow turn for her. Alix rounded a column and hid herself there. She peeked once, catching Tiberias hurling fireballs at the woman above. With light steps, Alix waved her hand and summoned the chandelier's shadow to curl around the woman's neck. The Red gasped and wheezed, clawing at the shadow yet it dispersed like smoke through her fingers. Alix did not want her touching her shadows.

Fueled with anger, the princess raised the woman from her hiding place and slammed her to the floor. At once, Prince Tiberias and the Sentinels swarmed around the woman. Alix stepped close enough to watch Sentinel Greco holding the woman's shoulder in an iron-grip. The shoulder blades shattered like thin ice under his strength.

Cal's lips were pressed into a thin line. He nodded to the Sentinels and they gathered their captives towards the underground dungeons. Four in all: the tall man Sentinel Samos injured, the woman and the boy, and this scarred woman, spitting redblood at the prince's feet like the commoner she was.

"Let's go," Cal said to no one in particular, but the Sentinels lined up. They dragged their prisoners like ragdolls on flimsy lines.

Without their guns and bombs, the Scarlet Guard looked weak enough. Their blood enough was distasteful, making Alix frown beneath a pleasant façade. She walked in stride with the crown prince, hands primly together, despite her bloodstained gown and wild mess of a makeup. Without proper makeup, she feared she would look as weak as the Scarlet Guard, pale and sickly and afraid. As they were now.

Evangeline crossed them on the way to the dungeons. She appeared both haggard and vicious, all damp black makeup and glossy purple lipstick. She bared white teeth at the prisoners, before turning her attention to the prince. "Where are you taking them?"

"Dungeons." His curt answer only told her that it was no time for talks. "Come with us."

"You should have killed them." She glowed at the idea, flanking Cal on his other side. She spared a glimpse at the wraith princess, drinking her entire appearance and somewhat reprieved that, like Evangeline, she was also bedraggled and in mourning. But her black eyes caught sight of a flower crown atop silver hair. Pink magnolias and purple bellflowers weaved together around a golden tiara.

The Sentinels threw the prisoners into separate cells. Evangeline herself caged them inside, reforming the metal bars to suit her tastes−thicker, narrower space. It was as if she wanted them to squirm with claustrophobia. At least that was what her cruel, pointed smirk suggested.

Alix stood straighter. She would do more than just let these prisoners squirm.

Cal was on his way back to the other cells, Evangeline in tow. When he realized that the Piedmont princess was not coming along, he blinked and turned back for her. "Alix, are you coming?"

"No, Tiberias," she answered in her soft voice. Eyes up ahead, on the prisoners. The scarred woman had the audacity to sneer at her despite her mangled shoulder. "I should like to stay here. I am tired."

"Of course." Cal had to bear in mind that she was not a fighter, and he had forced her to fight. He searched for the Sentinels. "Sentinel Osanos−"

"Alone," she interrupted. She blinked round golden eyes at his confused face. "Alone, Tiberias."

"Let her," Evangeline said, irritated at the exchange. "We should go ahead and fetch the King and Queen, especially the Queen. We will need her expertise on this matter." She swept well ahead of him, still in her ridiculous spiked gown, and flicked one finger. The metal door creaked open under her ability.

Cal gestured for the Sentinels and everyone went out of the dungeons. When the doors shut, the metallic echoes rang around the space and bounced back from the ceilings. Alix took her time studying the four prisoners, giving attention to the other three.

The other woman had her left eye swollen shut, the redblood evident beneath brown skin. The boy she recognized all too easily; he was the same boy with the lovely green eyes. Though he had avoided her gaze earlier, she still noticed the depth of his eyes. He was sneering at her now, not at all the meek servant he pretended to be. The last prisoner was a tall man, red-haired and long-limbed. He was suffering with a torn leg, wrapped poorly with ripped fabric. His eyes were closed, the pain written in his sweat-covered face.

Alix tipped her head to the side. "And behold the mighty Scarlet Guard," she noted, sarcastic.

The scarred woman grinned−a dark, amused grin. "I saw you in broadcasts before," she said. "Always surrounded by your brothers, always with your father. Like a doll, like a lapdog." Her voice hardened when the princess narrowed her eyes. She struck a royal nerve in there somewhere. "Tell me, what does it feel like to be paraded around like a bitch on sale?"

"Much better than what you feel, surely," Alix returned, her voice unendingly pleasant. As if inquiring about the weather, about the meadows back home. The Red chuckled at their verbal sparring. Her years of insults with Prince Maven finally paid off. "I might be paraded all the time, but at least I am not sticking my fingers into mud, suffering long hours of sweat and labor, and dislocating my shoulder after such a woeful attempt."

"Pretty words for a pretty girl."

"With a pretty ability."

The dungeons, already dark and imposing from one fluorescent light, grew darker. The shadows from all corners waved like sea breeze, circling the cages and slowly approaching. Alix motioned with her arms and the shadows swayed with her movements. The Reds widened their eyes and backed away from the cage. The shadow rose up, towards the bulb. With one flick, the shadows swallowed the light and the room was pitch-black.

Alix smiled then. Despite the crippling darkness, she saw how their jaw tightened. They were a stubborn bunch, this Scarlet Guard, thinking her game was over.

She had barely begun.

Her left hand moved in circles, the shadows forming into beasts familiar to her and the twins. She nipped at her lower lip. _Belicos Lerolan._ He was dead when she last saw him. The shadows danced under her will, and then took forms of wolves, black as the night itself, with black smoky fur and fangs. Yet their eyes were pale gold, glinting like a wildcat's eyes in a jungle.

Quietly, the wolves growled. They were parts of her imagination, soulless creatures of the night. The Reds could not know what would hit them. One by one, the wolves slipped through Evangeline's thick metal bars and started assaulting the prisoners. They snapped at their ankles and foot, ripped the fabric off their pants, dragging them across the small cage.

The woman and boy screamed and thrashed together, the scarred woman kicked the shadows away, and the injured man grunted in more pain.

 _Scream. Louder._ Alix felt bile rising in her throat. When was the last time she did this? Only a month ago, when her lord grandfather tossed a pair of Lakelander spies at her feet and demanded her to break them. His words back then were still clear to her. _Break them or you will not see Norta._

Break a pair of insignificant Lakelanders or never see Prince Cal on his Queenstrial? Or not see Prince Maven and banter with him? The answer was too easy. Before the day was finished, the Lakelanders were no more than a pile of soft bones, too weak in the knees to stand, surrendered to their childish fear of the dark. That same night, Alix had a merry time with her ladies-in-waiting, choosing gowns and tiaras to being with her to Norta.

Well, the Guard operatives were screaming now. Out of fear of darkness and fear of wolves. The creatures snapped and clawed at their feet, so as not to make permanent damage on the prisoners. They were still prisoners of King Tiberias, of Norta.

Finally, the darkness receded and the prisoners basked once more in the light.

"By my blood." The injured man's voice was weak. He chuckled at himself and scooted closer to the metal bars, dragging his broken leg behind. "Forgive me if I can't bow. I ought to kneel at your feet, Your Highness. Not once in my lifetime did I dream of meeting a princess royal."

"You're from Piedmont." It was not a question. His accent and bright red hair were common amongst his people. She approached him, looking down on her nose at him. "And you betrayed us," she hissed. Her fists curled and her own shadow swirled. "What is your name?"

"Tristan, if it pleases Your Highness."

"Where are you from?"

"Dad was from Ivrea, Mom from Sanctus. I grew up mostly in Ivrea though. Beautiful city. Very clean."

"My grandmother lives there."

"I know." Tristan chuckled. "My father was one of her stewards. He said she is kind and generous, if not a little sharp for an old woman. She gave out extra rations, too, for the loyal servants."

"What went wrong?" She still could not understand. "If my grandmother was kind to your father, _why_ would you join Scarlet Guard and do this? Shouldn't you be focusing on helping your family?"

"Princess, no one wants to live in poverty forever." His voice was gentle, like an older brother reprimanding a younger sibling. He reminded her of Rainier. "There might always be food on the table, but no one wants to be in the same lifestyle as our ancestors suffered decades ago. We want change."

"And this−" She gestured for the three prisoners. "You think this is worth the trouble?"

"Yes. I am certain."

"Then you are a fool."

"A fool to die under my own free will. What about you, Princess?" Tristan levelled her with a critical stare. His lips curled downward as his leg spasmed with pain. "Will you die under your free will?"

Before she could answer, the metal door snapped open again. Cal, Evangeline−with Maven and Mareena and even King Tiberias himself. Alix narrowed her eyes at the sight of the Titanos girl, well aware of her blood. But for the love she had for the Calore brothers, out of her admiration and respect to King Tiberias, she would hold her tongue and lash at nothing. Evangeline Samos can do that for the both of them.

Maven's blue eyes searched for Alix's eyes, raking over the torn dress and the soot on her cheek. _Not so perfect now._ The Piedmont princess who strived her entire life for perfection was a shadow of herself, with bloodshot eyes and messy silver hair. He left Mare's side to comfort his princess.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

"You are kind, Prince Maven." Her eyes flashed under her lashes. "I am well."

"Not hurt?" he pressed.

"No." _Only in the heart, for Belicos Lerolan. For Ptolemus Samos._

Before them, the scarred woman provoked Evangeline and the magnetron rushed at her like a wild beast. Evangeline restrained herself, much to the woman's amusement.

Cal was far from amused. His face was darker and lined with darker thoughts. He pointed a finger at the green-eyed boy. "Mare, he's your friend. Explain this."

Then there was Evangeline screeching at Mare, shouting curses and implicating Mare to the plot. Mare, with a desperate voice, argued that she only tried helping her friend. They were in a flurry of arguments that seemed only to incense the King further. At length, he gave permission for the prisoners to be tortured while they were waiting on the Queen. The King's heated stare bore through Alix, and she stiffened under his gaze.

 _No more. I already broke them_ , she pleaded in her mind. If Elara were here, she would have heard her desperate pleads. _Please. Look at them. They're tired and weak. They don't need more breaking._

Much to her relief, Cal summoned for Sentinel Gliacon. Evangeline giggled at that.

They picked the scarred woman for torture. Alix saw where her shadow wolves bit down on her feet and legs, punctured with deep holes and oozing redblood. Gliacon was freezing the woman's blood while Cal asked the questions. When she failed to answer, Sentinel Skonos healed the torn flesh and stepped back to let Gliacon work her wonders again.

Just then comes a loud, thundering voice. "WHERE IS SHE?"

Evangline perked up, as expected. Yet Maven did not expect his princess to perk up as well, relief flooding her pale face. He noticed how the colors rushed back to her cheeks as Ptolemus Samos himself thundered down the steps in a hurricane of rage.

In a moment of brief tenderness, he embraced his sister and checked at her face. Passing by both Cal and Mare, his steps considerably slowed upon sensing the princess. He was tall and heavily built, and it only took one mere nudge with his shoulder to push Maven away from her.

"My princess," Ptolemus murmured against her knuckles. Maven's eyebrow twitched at that. "Forgive me for a moment of incompetence. I failed you."

"No, no." Alix smiled into the magnetron's black eyes. "I am happy to see you well."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

As soon as his tenderness showed, it quickly melted. With a growl like the predator he was born and bred to be, Ptolemus sidestepped everyone and prowled to the cells. The prisoners scrambled backwards. The bars shuddered under the weight of his ability. His eyes ghosted on them, but landed on Tristan and his trail of redblood. Alix felt her own blood run cold−not for Ptolemus's murderous intent−but for fear of Tristan's life.

She blocked the magnetron from advancing. "He is mine," she told Ptolemus, seeing the quick flush of anger in his cheeks. He was holding back his tongue, his temper. She drew her gaze to the King. "Your Majesty, this man is from Piedmont and therefore my father's subject. I would ask you kindly to spare him from further torture. He can answer to the Kingwraith any time."

The mention of her lord grandfather made King Tiberias reconsider. Her father, now King Umberto, was half the king and man the Old Kingwraith had been.

Still, there was no stopping the storm that was Ptolemus. He brushed her aside and directed a metal bar into a thick spear. "You will not threaten my sister again," he snarled and drove the spear into Tristan's chest.

"You don't need to see this," Maven murmured in Alix's ear as blood bubbled from the man's mouth. She turned away as he bid, taking comfort in his warmth and gentle presence−something that Ptolemus could never learn despite being a skilled lair himself.

When the magnetron turned to the green-eyed boy, something snapped in Mare.

Lady Titanos gripped Samos by the neck and her sparks flew in a frenzy, purple-white streaks flashing in the dungeons. Ptolemus spasmed and fell to his knees, his steel armor smoking from within. To see him in such a state, to see him hurt again after suffering a bullet wound…

Something in Alix snapped, too.

Everyone's shadows swirled at her command and formed another creature of her imagination above Ptolemus's shaking body. The shadow dragon was gigantic inside this cramped space, baring its sword-length teeth at Mare's face. Its bat-like wings folded across its back, its spiked tail curling around Alix's body for purchase. A creature like this, it needed to be closer to be more refined. Summoning one already made her sweat break. Controlling it to threaten Mare was another effort.

Cal stood up for Mare before the dragon could open its pitch-black jaws. "Enough," he hissed at both of them, tired of their arguing. "Alix, that's enough. Put it away!"

"You're taking her side?" she rasped at him, incredulous. _Wake up, Tiberias! She's a Red!_

"Alix, please," said Maven in a milder tone. "Let's not shed more blood."

"No." Evangeline stood at her tallest height, taking the wraith's side. "She hurt my brother!"

"Out of Ptolemus's own disobedience!" Cal shouted.

"Lord Samos did his part," Maven said reasonably. "Mare, too. There should be an end to this."

The princess spared a glance at Ptolemus and decided to withdraw. The shadow dragon gave one last silent hiss at Mare's stunned face before dissipating into their shadows. She gestured with her hands. _There. Gone._ Maven just nodded and joined Mare's side. Alix scowled but said nothing.

"We can interrogate the prisoners tomorrow," King Tiberias ruled, after nodding in appreciation to Alix's outburst. In another world, he would have been glad to marry her to either of his sons. "We will address our nation and the prisoners will keep. And tomorrow, we will know the truth."

"Thank you, Father." Maven sighed in relief.

It was time to go. No need to linger in this space. King Tiberias led the pack, followed by his sons, then Mare, walking between the princes. Evangeline helped her brother up while Alix waited on them both. When Maven glanced behind, all three were walking together: Alix at the center, with the Samos siblings. The three of them together−all silver-haired, pale-skinned, scowling−was a frightening sight.

* * *

Back in the ballroom, King Tiberias addressed his Silver lords and ladies. The Sentinels, aiming their guns at the door and windows, manned the walls. The Piedmontese Guards stood by the door itself, the melted stone swept aside to make way for knights in golden armors.

While the King blathered a speech about avenging their fallen, Alix slipped from the group and rounded the crowd. No one noticed a wraith tiptoeing in the shadows. She went towards the group of Skonos healers trying to undo the damage. Many of the Sentinels were hurt. Moving along, she heard wails and cries of a familiar voice. She spotted Lady Diantha Welle, kneeling beside a body on a white sheet.

"Lady Welle, I am−" Alix stopped short. Her tears fell over flushed cheeks. Whatever composure and ferocity she mustered back in the dungeons were no more.

At her feet, flanking Belicos's already pale body, were Hunter and Trey. Their skin was burnt from the explosion, their chestnut curls burned to nothing but a charred skin tight over their skulls. Even in death, the boys were peaceful, innocent to the carnage and brutality in which they met their untimely end.

The princess dropped beside the weeping mother, put her arms around Diantha's shaking shoulders, and cried with her all night long.

But not long enough.

Jairus Lerolan passed by to collect his aunt. It took all his strength and another Lerolan cousin to pry her fingers from her husband's hands. When he managed to make her stand, Diantha came to him with another burst of tears and wrapped her arms around his neck. Jairus nestled back to her, rubbing her back. His green eyes are down on the princess, equally weeping, brushing Trey's cheek with her fingertips.

"Excuse us, Your Highness, but Lady Welle and I have to go," Jairus murmured.

"Yes. Of course." Without looking at them, Alix nodded. She felt their shadows recede along with the rest of the Silver families who came to enjoy dancing and partying, not to suffer fear.

She was alone at last. In this ballroom, no one was left but the skin healers trying to take away the dead. They were shuffling them bodies in white cloths, wheeled them out in stretchers like meat for sale. When a pair of healers tried to take Hunter and Trey from her, she scowled and the shadows swayed again. With furtive steps, the healers went away.

And returned afterwards, with Prince Maven.

He sighed to see her grieving alone. "How long has she been there?"

"Two hours since the King's speech," one of the healers answered. "Not one of the Royal Guard could make her budge an inch. That, and−" The healer shook his head. "And the wolves keep us from advancing. We could have asked for Prince Cal, but he has long retired for the night."

"I understand." Maven's face darkened. They thought of calling for his brother first than him. They thought Cal would solve their problems. Rolling back his shoulders, he would prove them otherwise.

Maven took careful approach. He knew wraiths were unpredictable, their abilities more so, but this was going off the charts. Summoning creatures was one thing, but giving them minds of their own was completely another.

The wolves Alix often used playing with the dead boys were back now, snarling their silent snarl, baring black teeth, surrounding the princess as she continued her vigil. The very wolves she used to play were now being used to threaten. Maven could not decide whether he should keep approaching or not. The wolves walked in circles, only stopping to glare at the prince.

 _Wraiths, manipulators of shadows and darkness. Damn them all._

"Alix?" he tried, voice soft and tender. She did not move. He dared to come closer. One wolf stopped in its tracks and barked silently at him. "Alix, it's time to go…"

"I can't."

"Of course you can. It's wee hours in the morning."

"I can't leave them," she corrected, her back turned to him.

"We won't leave them alone." Maven took more careful steps, his flame-maker clinking at every silent growl from the wolves. At last, he dropped to the floor next to the princess and took her face in his hands. Her tears fell to his palm, glistening under the dim lighting.

Her face was very pale, and there seemed to be dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. Maven was completely taken aback. He had never seen her so vulnerable and desperate. Her makeup was gone, already wiped away by the countless times she wiped at her tears. With her gown torn and her hair in a wild silver mess, he never would have thought Alix was capable of such an appearance. She was always meticulous when it came to appearances, so vain and prissy that it made Maven annoyed most of the time. _Girls and their vanities_ , he would think.

She was not vain now. Instead, she sniffled like a helpless little girl and buried her face in the crook of his neck. There she sobbed all the more, fingers clutching tight at the lapels of his uniform. Inwardly, the prince thanked his colors that neither Cal nor his mother was around to see this. Especially his mother. Elara Merandus was fierce as she was possessive.

Behind, the skin healers worked as if the two youth were not locked in an embrace. The Sentinels did not mind, but the Royal Guard surely did.

Bryon Novara cleared his throat. He was a knight, a soldier, and most importantly−a babysitter for his royal cousin. It would not do well if she was taking comfort in someone else's betrothed.

"Your Highness," he called. "It is time to go."

Alix flinched in Maven's arms. Around them, the wolves bared black teeth. Novara was unperturbed; no doubt, this was a usual occurrence back home. He merely sighed and removed his golden helmet. For the first time in weeks, Maven saw the firma's face.

He had the bright grey eyes and auburn hair of House Novara. His skin was tan and almost golden from long hours spent under the sun during his Training days. Now his torso rippled with muscle, his arms thick and corded like iron rope braided together. Despite his imposing build, his eyes were warm as he looked down at his sobbing cousin, willing to comfort her but held back by his duties as a Guard.

Besides, Maven was already holding her.

"We should go, Alix," the prince whispered in her ear. "We won't leave Hunter and Trey alone, but we have to go. There's still business to be done in the morning." His words stirred her. Of course, she couldn't appear tomorrow as haggard as she was now. She needed to rest, an unspoken truth. His fingers combed through her hair, smoothing down the tangles, poring over his next words. "We can leave Guard Novara and Sentinel Merandus to watch over, make sure everything is okay…"

She mumbled something under her breath. He had to lean closer, his nose almost against her neck.

"What's that?"

"Bryon comes with me," she murmured softly.

Maven blinked up at the mentioned Guard. Bryon understood what the princess meant and called for another fellow Guard Novara−another cousin, older, with crow's feet under his grey eyes. At that moment, Maven also understood and remembered: that Alix was the youngest of them all, raised alongside her brothers, kept in close surveillance. In a time like this, she would certainly seek the support of a family member.

The lead Guard reassembled the group: two remaining to stay with the bodies, the other ten moving back to the residence halls with the princess. The wolves disintegrated after the announcement, and everyone, including the nearby skin healers, sighed in relief.

When the prince tried to make Alix stand, she tightened her arms around his neck. He blinked again and sought for Novara's help. With a sneer of his own, Novara gestured for them to take the front.

Maven smiled as he carried Alix in his arms, one hand behind her back and the other under her knees. She still had her face in his neck as he walked out of the ballroom, followed by Guards and Sentinels alike. She was light, barely needing half of Maven's strength to carry her. If there had been a windweaver amongst them, he was afraid that she might have been tossed about already.

On the way to the residence halls, she spoke again. "I wish this is all a dream," she muttered, her voice soft and feather-like against his skin. "I wish this is all just a terrible dream…"

He nodded, solemn. He shared her wishes.

But her lips were still grazing across his neck. It was hard not to blush, especially when Bryon Novara's critical gaze was boring through them from their backs. Despite it all, the princess still had something to say.

"And when I wake up, I wish we are back in the morning of Cal's Queenstrial and you are not yet betrothed to anyone…"

Maven nodded again. His lips brushed lightly on her forehead. Careful enough for Novara to miss.

"I wish that, too, Alix," he told her and she smiled.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** The release of War Storm warrants a new chapter! I'm halfway through the chapters, and I am already scared to continue. I can't imagine exactly how the story ends. So please! No spoilers, guys! I need to imagine that Maven is happy at the end of it all.

As for this chapter, things are (finally) moving again. We will delve deeper into the Piedmont and Caralis backgrounds in the next few chapters, since I love world-building as much as writing. Also, thank you very much for the previous reviews! You guys are awesome and I can't thank you all enough!

* **Edenrose Antionette** \- Aww! Thank you, dear!

* **Serenitia** \- Thank you very much! Your words are very kind and encouraging. I hope you continue supporting the story.

* **hifivebuddy** \- Everything's going down for real so now I'm scared!

* **Lovely** \- Thank you, Love!

* **Guest** \- Oh no! Did you mean Ptolemus?! He's back now, don't cry!

* **Tallulah** \- Ooh boy! Alix with Tolly? Or Alix with Cal? Which is it? Make up your mind! XD P.S.: Cal saved me. ;)

* **TheBrightestOfBlues** \- Thank you for that wonderful comment! Ptolemus already survived, but what about marring Alix? Hmm?


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